RENAISSANCE - REVIVAL

                                                    DÉCANTATION


                                       J'éprouve le besoin de me mettre à nu

                                          Au sens propre comme au figuré,

                                    Par ces poèmes qui dévoilent mon inconnu

                                  Et aussi, lorsque le soleil veut bien se montrer,

                                    Je déplie un transat à  l'arrière de la maison

                                    Puis, je m'alanguis sous ses chauds rayons.

                                    Pour la première fois, je ressens la nécessité

                                   Presque charnelle, d'être entièrement dénudée,

                                        De retirer le moindre de mes oripeaux,

                               D'exposer aux ultraviolets, chaque once de ma peau.

                                    La chaleur qu'il me prodigue généreusement,

                                   Me permet de trouver l'inspiration du moment.

                                    Entre ces deux bien-être, je me sens bercée,

                                          Laissant court à toutes mes idées

                                   De concevoir à leur rythme, sans impatience,

                                     Ainsi, elles se déposent en toute confiance.

                                       Pour expliquer ces nouvelles émotions,

                                Un terme m'est venu à l'esprit : "décontamination".

                                        Mon an "1" se dessine sous mes pieds,

                                          Plaisir et liberté jalonnent ce sentier.



MY TRANSLATION



                                                    DECANTATION

                                         I feel the need to strip off myself

                                           Literally as well as figuratively,

                                   By these poems that reveal my unknown

                                       And when the sun wants to come

                                  I unfold a deckchair in back of the house

                                      Then I lie down under its warm rays.

                                         For the first time, I feel the need

                                  Almost carnal, to be completely denuded,

                                     Removing the the least of my rags,

                            To expose to ultraviolet light, every ounce of my skin.

                                   The warmth that it gives me generously

                              Allows me to find the inspiration of the moment

                                Between these two well-being, I feel rocked

                                           Leaving free all my ideas

                          To conceive at their own rhythm, without impatience,

                                      Thus, they settle with confidence.

                                        To explain these new emotions,

                              A term came to my mind : "decontamination".

                                      My year "1" shape under my feet,

                                       Fun and freedom line this path.

L'ART DE LA RÈGLE - THE ART OF THE RULE

                                              BONSAÏ OU HERBE FOLLE ?



                             Certains puristes préfèrent des poèmes tirés au cordeau :

                                 Lentement, minutieusement découpés aux ciseaux,

                                         En faire une petite chose mise au carré,

                                              Propre, nette et facile à coucher.

                                            Moi, je prends beaucoup de liberté,

                                   J'accorde aux mots celle dont j'ai toujours rêvée.

                                      Bien sur, ils dépassent un peu sur les côtés,

                                       Restés sans espace pendant tant d'années.







MY TRANSLATION IN ENGLISH :  THE ART OF  THE RULE




                                         BONSAÏ OR CRAZY GRASS ?


                            Certain purists prefer a poem drawn with  chalk lines :

                                       Slowly, carefully cut with scissors
 
                                To make it one little thing square operating,
                                                                                
                                      Clean, clear and easy to write down.

                                            Me I take a lot of freedom,

                           I grant at words , this one that I've always dreamed .
 
                                  Of course, they extend slightly over the sides,
 
                                   Remained without spaces for so many years.

ENFANTILLAGE - CHILDISHNESS

                                                   LA CLÉ DES CHAMPS


                                                   Mon école buissonnière

                                                   M'emmène à la frontière

                                                   Du bien et du mal,

                                                   Sans aucune escale.

                                                   Parti sans prévenir,

                                                   Vers un nouvel avenir.

                                                   De quoi est-elle faite ?

                                                   De quelques allumettes,

                                                   Servant à réchauffer l'air du temps,

                                                   2 ou 3 bouts de ficelle

                                                   Pour accrocher les nuages à ma selle.

                                                   Finis la maîtresse et les leçons,

                                                   L'école et la maison.

                                                   Je vous salue sur mon passage,

                                                   Heureux de renaître à mon premier âge .




MY TRANSLATION : CHILDISHNESS

 

                                                 THE KEY OF THE FIELDS
 

                                                 My hooky

                                                 Took me with it to the border

                                                 Of good and evil,

                                                 Without any stopover.

                                                 Left without warning,

                                                 Towards a new future.

                                                 What do I need ?

                                                 Some matches,

                                                 Used to warm the air of the weather,

                                                 2 or 3 pieces of string

                                                 To hang the clouds after my saddle.

                                                 Finished the teacher and the lessons

                                                The school and the home.

                                                 I greet you on my way,

                                                 Happy to be born again in my first age.

POIDS PLUME - FEATHERWEIGHT

                                                                    L'ÉCRITURE


                                                              Les mots coulent à flot

                                                           Le long de toutes mes veines

                                                    Ce ne sont pas des moments de peine

                                       Au contraire, de ma vie, ils comptent parmi les plus beaux.

                                                 De dehors, je me suis nourrie suffisamment,

                                                   Pour me retrouver en intimité, à présent.

                                              Certains jours me découvrent en état de grâce,

                                                    D'autres, plus lourds, en état des lieux.

                                             Mais jamais de ce temps, je ne ferai la grimace

                                                    Car c'est celui qui m'a ouvert les yeux.

                                                         Je souhaite à tous et à chacun

                                                             D'en vivre d'aussi sereins.

                                                    A l'image d'une merveilleuse grossesse,

                                                     Qui dans la joie de porter à l'intérieur

                                                        Ce qui, bientôt, vivra à l'extérieur,

                                                       Contribue à l'oxygénation de l'espèce.




MY TRANSLATION
 

                                                               THE HANDWRITING



                                                             The words flow like water

                                                                  All along my veins

                                                       These are not moments of sorrow

                                                 Contrary they are among the finest of my life

                                                  From the outside, I'm nourished sufficiently,

                                                         To find myself in intimacy now.

                                                      Some days I am in a state of grace,

                                                     Others, heavier in inventory of fixtures.

                                                        But never of this time I will pull a face

                                                  Because it is the one which opened my eyes.

                                                            I wish for each and all

                                                       To live moments as well serene.

                                                            As a wonderful pregnancy

                                                        Which in the joy of wear inside
 
                                                         Something, soon, live outside, 

                                               Contributes to the oxygenation of the species.

NOCTAMBULES - NIGHT OWLS

                
                                                            VUE DU CIEL



                                              Ce soir, j'ai la tête dans  les étoiles

                                           Le ciel est sombre, profond, sans voile

                                     Il reste de la neige sur les trottoirs, en mal d'hiver

                                         Avec mon chien, nous partons nous balader

                                             Un dernier bol d'air avant le coucher

                                          Il n'y a personne, rues et quartiers déserts

                                                      C'est un instant magique

                                             Où nous pourrions nous croire uniques




MY TRANSLATION :  NIGHT OWLS




                                                       VIEW OF THE SKY
 
 
                                               Tonight, my head is among the stars

                                               The sky is dark, deep, without mist

                                    There is still snow on the sidewalk, in search of winter

                                                With my dog, we go to walk around
 
                                              One last fresh air before laying down it

                                     There is no one, streets and neighborhoods deserted

                                                         It is a magic moment
 
                                                  Where we can believe us unique