Allez, je lance la série « rapid », sans e. Tous les jours trois lignes sur quelqu’un ou quelque chose. La première (déjà lue, si « rapid ») était sur Lynch, normal. Demain : sur Carrère. Des bises. Mais suivez un peu !
Farewell My Lady
Farewell My Lady Farewell my lady, enjoy the sun without me, if you meet God I’m so delighted, and in a minus scale, if you meet love, you have all my benediction The trees are tall, the fields are wide, I remember your skinny steps and I think they’re made to hit the ground My... Lire la Suite →
Memory Board / Auf Spitzen
Memory Board / Auf Spitzen, 27th of December 20.
trois versions du même poème/three versions of the same poem/drei Versionen desselben Gedichts
trois versions du même poème/three versions of the same poem/drei Versionen desselben Gedichts Je trouve ça drôle ces traductions en ligne. Celles-ci sont plutôt pas mal, on voit le texte autrement. J’ai été amusé par exemple que le jeu de mots du dernier vers disparaisse au profit d’un sens que je n’avais pas complétement en... Lire la Suite →
Fishermen at Sea
Fishermen at Sea Are we still afloat in the wide open seaCan we see one's fellow not too far from one's sightCan you still reach my hand with some accuracyWill your shoulder by mine lean against this long night Under the dark sky let us raise our tempestsWe must be brave together to form a... Lire la Suite →
The Bridge
The Bridge If you walk by the bridge like you walk in the air The sky as a mirror to the river flowing belowTerrors and joys are merging in the whirl And there is no colour though they’re all in the spinDo not name anything if you still want to breath Do not count your... Lire la Suite →
Teasy Morning
Teasy Morning Teasy morning nothing is left about last nightTeasy morning all the shadows from yesterday are back to fightWere they waiting under the bed like a sustainWhat a weard way to make an entry into life again All this space and all this time what do I careThe day is wide like an empty... Lire la Suite →
Some Other Birds
Some Other Birds Some birds they sing right through your headNobody else can hear them singIt’s like a concert no one’s heardUnder the sea under the dreamIt’s like a Pompeii rehearsalAll in your headProvidential Some birds are black on their branchesSome others white in the sun beamI’m like a bird dry my feathersWith an invisible... Lire la Suite →
The Sedge Has Withered (You Speak Alone)
The Sedge Has Withered(You Speak Alone) It’s always a bit of a desertWhen you speak alonePeople chatting in the chamberBut you speak alone Is it your own burialOr is it your birthdayYou speak true no denialBut alone on your way I think I’m a musicianWaiting for a set listI think I’m no patricianTo be elected... Lire la Suite →
LA MENTION VAUT L'USAGE / The lady doth protest too much, methinks. — O, but she’ll keep her word. (Hamlet) 