AFFRANCHIE - FREED

                                                    LA GRANDE EVASION



                                                      De mon ancien cachot,

                                                      J'ai écarté les barreaux.

                                              Mon poème est fait de mon émotion,

                                               De mes sentiments les plus profonds :

                                                Ceux qui s'échappent en ébullition

                                            Dans des volutes de fumées, à l'horizon.

                                              A l'image d'un volcan  trop silencieux,

                                           A l'intérieur, mon esprit est resté séditieux.

                                              Sous la pression, soudain tout explose

                                                 En un millier de sulfureuses roses :

                                                 Les bulles de lave incandescentes

                                              De ma nouvelle révolution permanente.



MY TRANSLATION IN ENGLISH :  FREED 




                                                       THE GREAT ESCAPE
 

                                                         Of my old dungeon

                                                      I moved away the bars.

                                              My poem is made of my emotion,

                                                        My deepest feelings:

                                                     Those that escape boiling

                                                In curls of smoke on the horizon.

                                                     Like a volcano too quiet,

                                            Inside, my mind has remained rebellious.

                                         Under pressure suddenly everything explodes

                                                  In a thousand sulfurous roses :

                                                       Glowing lava bubbles

                                                Of my new permanent revolution.





















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REVEIL NOCTURNE - NOCTURNAL AWAKENING

                                                     TIC-TAC, TIC-TAC,.......

                                      Comme un misérable, le sommeil s'en est allé

                                         Alors que mon temps n'est plus compté !

                                           Moi qui rêvait de jeter ce satané réveil,

                                   J'entends s'égrener chaque seconde de mon éveil.

                                             La nuit s'agite par la fenêtre ouverte :

                                      Passage de voitures, bruits de voix, pas furtifs,

                                      La sagesse me retient de partir à sa découverte

                                 Pourtant, ce pourrait être de mes insomnies, le palliatif.

                                           Je suis encore dans l'entre deux mondes :

                                                Celui, connu, que je quitte bientôt

                                    Et l'autre, pour lequel je suis en chemin, le nouveau.

                                      Je navigue entre haut-le-coeur et frissons de joie.

                                    Au firmament, la tête dans les étoiles, certaines fois ;

                                   A d'autres moments, je semble basculer dans le vide

                                 La peur au ventre, ankylosée par une angoisse morbide,

                                              Une fête foraine gratuite et permanente.

                                  Cependant, je pressens que tous ces instants alimentent

                                                          Ma nouvelle liberté

                                                         J'en suis persuadée.




MY TRANSLATION : NOCTURNAL AWAKENING

 
                                                     Ticking, ticking, .......
 

                                            As a miserable, sleep is gone

                                          While my time is not accounted!

                             Me who dreamed of throw that damned alarm clock,

                                   I hear pass every second of my awakening.

                                 The night is agitated through the open window :

                                 Passing car, sounds of voices, furtive footstep ,

                                  The wisdom holds me to go to its discovery

                                  Yet this could be to my insomnia, palliative.

                                      I'm still in the middle of two worlds:

                                         This one, known, I soon leave

                           And the other, for which I am on the way, the new.

                              I navigate between retching and shivers of joy.

                             In the firmament, head in the stars, sometimes ;

                              At other times, I seem to topple over the edge
 
                          To feel sick with fear, stiffened by a morbid anxiety

                                           Free and permanent funfair.

                             However, I forebode that all these moments feed

                                                  My new freedom

                                                  I am convinced.

LA SEMAINE DE TOUS LES LUNDIS - THE WEEK OF EVERY MONDAY

                                         
                                                    A LA PETITE SEMAINE


                                                  Déjà au crépuscule du dimanche,

                                                  Le travail nous tire par la manche.

                                                  "Lundi" : le mot semble détestable.

                                                  Il est pourtant composé de lettres admirables,

                                                  Nous pourrions le vivre ainsi :

                                                          L  =    Liberté

                                                          U  =   Universelle

                                                          N  =   Naturellement

                                                          D  =   Dédié

                                                          I  =   à l'Individu

                                                  Mais notre vérité est celle -ci  :

                                                          L  =   L'homme

                                                          U  =   Urbanisé

                                                          N  =   Nourriture

                                                          D  =   De

                                                          I  =   l'Industrie

                                                  Quel dommage d'utiliser notre vocabulaire

                                                            A usiner de si tristes affaires !


 Ce poème a été inclus dans le "hobo-lullaby" blog "http://hobo-lullaby.over-blog.net
  et j'en suis ravie , il ya un lien dans mes blogs préférés aussi"


 

MY TRANSLATION

                                                     

                                                    AT THE LITTLE WEEK 

 

                                                 Already at twilight Sunday,

                                                 The work takes us by the sleeve.

                                                 "Monday": the word seems hateful.

                                                 Yet it is composed of admirable letters,

                                                 We could live it like this :

                                                          M =  Marvelous

                                                          O =  Offering

                                                          N =  Naturally

                                                          D =  Dedicated

                                                          A =  At

                                                          Y =  You

                                                  But our truth is this:

                                                          M =  Man

                                                          O =  Once again

                                                          N =  Nutriment

                                                          D =  Delegated

                                                          A =  At

                                                          Y =  the Yield 

                                                  What a shame to use our vocabulary

                                                    In machining business so sad!



In French : first "monday" = Freedom Universal Naturally Dedicated the Individual
                 second......     = Man Urbanized Food Of Industry



This poem was included in the "hobo-lullaby" blog "http://hobo-lullaby.over-blog.net "
 and I am delighted there is a link to my favorite blogs also

LE POUVOIR DE DIRE "OUI" - THE POWER TO SAY "YES"

                                                           LES "OUI" AU POUVOIR




                                             Aujourd'hui, je prends la décision

                                                                    De réduire au silence les "non".

                                            Tous ces freins qui limitent mon action

                                                                   Et me font agir comme un mouton.

                                             Je veux voir l 'envers de mon enfer :

                                                                  Si le paradis, comme je le suppose,

                                            Est aux antipodes de ce que j'expose,

                                                                  Je n'ai que quelques pas à faire

                                          Pour que mon être se réveille

                                                                 A une vie de merveilles............



 MY TRANSLATION


                                                      THE "YES" IN THE POWER

 
                                       Today, I make the decision

                                                                      For ever, to silence the "no."

                                       All these brakes which limit my action

                                                                    And make me act like a sheep.

                                       I want to see the other side of my hell :

                                                                     If the paradise, as I suppose, 

                                       Is to the antipodes of what I expose,

                                                            I have only a few steps to be made

                                        For my being awake

                                                                     In a life of marvels ............