It’s not springtime
yet Spring is in the air.

Birds seem not to care
and roses confuse
dreams with reality.

But shadows lengthen
and the robin’s heart
beats faster and faster.

September farewell.
There so little time left.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

Un air de printemps
flotte sur le jardin.

L’oiseau semble indifférent
et la rose prend
ses rêves pour la réalité.

Mais les ombres s’allongent
et le cœur du rouge gorge
bat la chamade.

Adieu Septembre.
Il reste si peu de temps.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

Ombre© 2018– F.G.M.

Dandelions and the Sun
are not hard things to draw.

No matter if you have
no colored pencils:

outline your hand
starting near your heart,

the Soul is a child
who loves drawing

and flowers abound
in the garden of stars!

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

Fleur ou soleil ? © 2018– F.G.M.

A ten-year-old boy is lying
on the ground.
His name is Anthony,
it sounds like eternity.

They say he suffered injuries
from a fall.
But do they know
angels like him never fall?

Anthony,
is being true always worthwhile?
Anthony,
what is nicer than your smile?

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

Anthony Avalos, 2008-2018
in memoriam

Dreamlike landscape.
Poppy field near Argenteuil.
A place where star seeds grow.

Unfortunately
you cannot enter the Painting
unless you have the Password!

But if you open the Window
a child of the sky will whisper it softly
into your heart:

raindrops

emotion

illumination

.
.
.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

Comme un tableau de Monet © 2018 – F.G.M.

I came into the world
not to tell the truth
but little things similar

still water reflections
white lies
lazy butterflies
slow days of May
faithful hawthorn
blue dreams underway
and the sweet voice of flowers
in the evening light

and all those silent stars
far above
the selfless trees.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

Ce n’est pas pour dire la vérité
que je suis venu au monde
mais ce qui s’en rapproche

reflets sur l’eau
mensonges pieux
papillons paresseux
aubépine fidèle
lentes journées de mai
rêves bleus tout juste commencés
et la douce voix des fleurs
dans la lumière du soir

et par delà les cimes
des arbres magnanimes
toutes ces étoiles silencieuses.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

 

~

En Vérité (reflets) © 2018 – F.G.M.

Sometimes you walk on water,
sometimes you sink like a stone:

there are many farewells
on the way to Summer.

Because the sun did not show up
I gave up on my blue dreams

and sold my soul to the Devil.
But bluebells bought it back:

some flowers are angels in disguise
some forests look like Paradise!

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

Something blue © 2018 – F.G.M.