Between Chatou and Croissy

Renoir - The Seine at Asnières

I was walking along the Seine
between Chatou and Croissy
admiring upright hollyhocks
as proud as poor,

sunlight dancing on water,
trees by the riverside,
and pretty houses
with closed shutters,

when suddenly
and so mysteriously
I ran into Renoir’s ghost
and saw the Light again.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

illustration : The Seine at Asnières, Renoir (1879)

Entre Chatou et Croissy

La Seine à Chatou (Renoir)

J’ai marché le long de la Seine
entre Chatou et Croissy
là où des peintres avec mélancolie
allaient pour oublier leur peine.

J’ai vu des roses trémières
qui se dressaient,
pauvres mais fières,
des reflets qui dansaient,

des arbres au bord de l’eau,
et de jolies maisons
aux volets à demi clos.
Et soudain, sans raison,

tristesse est devenue
confiance,
comme une évidence,
l’Espoir m’est revenu.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

illustration : The Seine at Chatou, Renoir (1881)

River Fantasy

A different way

On the bank of the river Fantasy
I got some really good advice
from a young and wise
willow tree.

Always try to see
the visible world
in a different way,
it said in a thrilling whisper,

every blessed day
feast your eyes
on the purple beauty of the Unseen,
don’t be afraid of grey clouds,

paint the sky orange, dare to disobey
and let your imagination run wild
as if you were still
a Child.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

 © 2015 – F.G.M.

Notre Infini / Our Infinite

Est-ce lumière du soir ?
Ou lumière du matin ?
Et cette voix silencieuse,
un signe, un guide, un ange?

Océan, je m’interroge.
Etoiles, je m’émerveille.
Lumière.
Ainsi naquit le monde.

Il n’y a ni temps ni espace.
Vraie Vie, pure Grâce,
et mon coeur s’emplit de joie :
l’amour est tout, il est

notre infini.

~

Sunset, sunrise.
Which light does it resemble?
And what about this silent voice.
Is it a sign, a guide, an angel?

Ocean, I’m wondering.
Stars, you enthrall me.
Light.
And thus was born the world.

There is neither time nor space,
true Life, pure Grace,
I’m full of the joys of Spring,
love sustains everything :

it is our Infinite.

© Frédéric Georges Martin