Category: Poem + painting

La Condamnation / The Sentence

Désespérées, des fleurs mauves
ont embrassé l’Automne,
et des lumières oranges
ici et là s’attardent.

Ce jardin est un tableau,
et le monde est un faux,
et de mon âme j’ai perçu
la vacillation

quand j’ai reçu
ma condamnation.
Mais je t’aime à jamais
et c’est tout ce qui compte.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

Desperate thistles
have fallen in love with Autumn.
Here and there
orange lights linger.

That garden is a painting,
and the world is a fake,
and I feel my soul quivering
for the sentence is Death,

but I love you
forever
and that’s all that
matters.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

illustration: thistles on orange (Erin Hanson, 2016)

La Rivière / The River

La Source est généreuse,
le rivage est paisible,
l’eau chante et court
et c’est un flot d’amour.

qui ne tarit jamais.

Et si doucement je m’endors,
vous trouverez toujours
au bord bleu de la Nuit
ou dans le mot rivière

mieux que de l’or, de la Lumière.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

Bountiful Spring
peaceful Shore,
Love flows, waters sing
and never run dry.

And if I gently fall asleep

you will always find
on the blue edge of the Night
or in the word river
something better than gold,

you will find some Light.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

illustration : River Landscape (Gustave Courbet, 1869)

A Lesson from the Morning Star

The world is my school
I said like a fool
and I questioned Mrs. Moon.

Do we have to reflect sunlight too?
“not necessarily”
She replied.

Then I asked Professor Sky.
Is there a way to fly?
“There is…” He said,

“…but not the one you think!”
So what is the main Lesson?
I whispered to the Morning Star.

“There are only three things
you need to know
before entering my Realm.

How to live. How to give
and above all,
how to forgive.”

Those were the words I heard
at the break of Dawn,
a Lesson from the Morning Star.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

illustration: Morning Star (Nicholas Roerich, 1932)

When September begins

Life has given us a Lute
with twelve thin strings of Hope.

When September begins
Love is so very near,
and trees in golden light
make it easy to sing

for those who have a Dream
and those who do not have any.

September has just begun,
the Light is warm and clear,
and so I take my lute
and sing my little Love song

for those who have a Dream
and those who do not have any.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

illustration:  September Afternoon (Joseph DeCamp, c1895)

Un rêve d’enfant / A Child’s Dream

Je fais souvent ce rêve,
vous venez à la maison,
vous passez le portillon,

nous allons au jardin.
Je vous montre le chêne,
les violettes, les mûres.

Je pourrais presque vous entendre.
Que la lumière est belle
et que tout est joli !

Mais dans la pénombre
tout n’est que silence.
Ce n’était qu’un rêve,

un rêve d’enfant.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

I often have a dream that
you’re coming by the house,
you go through the door,

we walk around the garden.
I show you the oak tree, the violets
and the blackberry bush.

I could almost hear your voice.
“What a wonderful light!
Everything’s so nice!”

But everything’s so silent
 in the twilight.
It was just a dream,

a child’s dream.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

illustration: Houses in Auvers (Vincent Van Gogh, 1890)

Elsewhere

Planets revolve around their star,
the wind blows as the sun sets
trees sway, sapphire rivers flow,
somber flames start to dance.

And the Night mist reveals
deep and hidden things,
and the Moon watches over dreams
until unaware shadows flee,

then bodies wander the world.
But the Hearts still beat as One
for the Soul lives
Elsewhere.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

illustration: Fields Of Fog (Eyvind Earle, 1990)