A Writer's Paradise

I find myself where
the wind in the leaves is heard
but traffic is not,
where hills without houses
roll to the horizon,
where the creaky chair and desk of tired varnish
furnish the coming days with ideal,
and I must write.

The air is fresh
and the sun blistering,
et je vais parler français 
avec les amis, en buvant
le vin de la région, 
et la sensation de la conversation
dans une belle langue 
ajoute une émotion pure,
when I come to write verse
in my native tongue.

And the boisterous laughter of children,
and the giggling of an infant
energise this siesta atmosphere
to fill the time with melody,
and the fill the melody with words,
and to fill the words with meaning,
to fill the coming months
avec le repos de maintenant.


Written in July 2017 while Silje and I were on retreat with some friends in a tiny village in the south of 'Le Parc National des Cévennes.' 

As I learn to speak more French I have experimented writing bi-lingual poetry... This is the first one that I am sharing on this blog. Here I change language mid-stanza, not just for the sake of it, but to communicate a different feeling, to submerge the reader in the surroundings that inspired the words. 

Sorry if you don't understand the French..... But, I made this vocal recording so that even if you do not understand the French, you can get the feeling of the sections that are in French.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Day 8 or 9

Reviving the blog: Catching up on publications...

An Array of Vapour - Matthew Heasman's endorsement and New Hope