Summer over here
has been hot and dry,
but tenants did not care.
In my neighbor’s garden
the young cherry tree
died.

White flowers tinted with pink,
Flakes of light in the wind:
last Spring, it snowed in Heaven.
But wingless angels
cannot fly in the sky.
Spring will never be the same

and I feel like crying.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

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Men like to build stone temples
with heavy studded doors
that they close properly
when they pretend to worship.

Do they really love each other?
Walk your own way and go
where the gardener kneels
every day,

where the Tree grows slowly,
where the Flower chants humbly
and where the patient Star shines
for every Pilgrim:

God loves Gardens.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

Les hommes aiment construire
des temples de pierre
avec de lourdes portes cloutées
qu’ils ferment au jour de la prière.

S’aiment-ils vraiment les uns les autres ?
Passe ton chemin et va,
là où le jardinier
chaque jour s’agenouille,

là où l’Arbre grandit lentement,
où la Fleur psalmodie humblement
et où l’Etoile patiente brille
pour chaque pèlerin :

Dieu aime les jardins.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

illustration: Stained Glass Window (The Mysterious Garden)
(Odilon Redon, c1905)

¡Atlántico infinito, tú que mi canto ordenas! (Tomás Morales)

When I saw Him again
El Atlántico infinito
neither salt nor blueness
burned my eyes.

The forceful Wave
did not break my heart
but the wind went through
my body

and my soul
dissolved into vast space
sang the Song of eternal Life
El Atlántico infinito.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

¡Atlántico infinito, tú que mi canto ordenas! (Tomás Morales)

Et quand  je L’ai revu
El Atlántico infinito
ni le sel ni l’azur
ne m’ont brûlé les yeux.

La vague violente
n’a pas brisé mon coeur,
mais le vent a traversé
mon corps

et mon âme
en l’infini dissoute
a chanté le chant de la vie éternelle
El Atlántico infinito.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

la mer à Puerto de la Nieves © 2017– F.G.M.

This may sounds like
a last au revoir.

It is not a brilliant poem.
Not even a child’s song.

I just want to write
a few words about Love.

There is no guide
but the Heart.

There is no wandering
when kindness is the Light,

and for even the tiniest spark
will turn into a radiant sun,

there is no darkness,
there is no farewell.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

if our eyes had filled up
with shadow and sorrow

if the Stars had faded away
if the Sun did not rise

there would always be
enough Light

enough Light in our Hearts
to illuminate the world

enough light to see
the shining face of Love

© Frédéric Georges Martin

The day has begun
with a birdsong:
April speaks like an angel

and Spring told me
I was wrong.
This world is not Hell.

We’re not living
under the Devil’s spell.
The Night will never end

but birds are eternal
and I’m nearing
my destination.

Heaven is inside me.

© Frédéric Georges Martin