His Friend Pierrot (Son ami Pierrot)

 

The Night before we left
I had such a beautiful dream.
I dreamt I flew in the moonlight
and played among the stars.

I also met my father.
He said I was his Friend Pierrot
and hugged me.
I still remember how deeply I felt

his Heart beating against mine,
and even the way I rose up in the sky.
But last Night I didn’t go so far.
Please, see the light of stars in you

and believe my father’s friend.
Some Dreams are truer than Life
and some Words,
stronger than Death.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

La nuit avant notre départ,
j’ai fait un si beau rêve. Je volais
au clair de lune. Je jouais parmi les étoiles.
Et puis j’ai rencontré mon père.

Il m’a dit que j’étais son ami Pierrot.
Il m’a serré contre lui, si fort
que je pouvais entendre
battre son Cœur contre le mien.

Et je me souviens même comment
vers le ciel j’ai pris mon élan.
Mais je ne suis pas allé si loin.
Voyez en vous la lumière des étoiles

et croyez l’ami de mon père :
certains rêves sont plus vrais que la vie,
et certains mots,
plus forts que la mort.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

This is not a Dream

This is not a dream.

We often go through
the small iron door,

we often walk around
the garden of treasures.

What we say, you hear.
What you see, we see.

The oak leaves rustling in the wind
and the gleam of the Moon

and the blackberry bush,
the birds and the violets.

Everything’s so nice
in the silent twilight.

For Children of the Night
always remember the Truth,

this is not a dream.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

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)

A Garden in the Sky

When poets die they go to
a Garden in the Sky.
A garden full of flowers
whatever the season.

It is like a mountain peak
emerging from the clouds,
the peaceful shore of a lake,
the beginning of a Dream.

And they do not awake
until the Sun
has smiled lovingly
upon them.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

I’m happy to let you know that two of my poems are now published : Forgotten Sandcastles and Between Chatou and Croissy. Thanks to John Looker and  Bennison Books I have had the opportunity to take part in the beautiful anthology “Indra’s Net: An international anthology of poetry in aid of The Book Bus”. The Book Bus is a charity which aims to improve child literacy rates in Africa, Asia and South America by providing children with books and the inspiration to read them. The book is available on Amazon UK or Amazon US. Royalties will be given to the Book Bus. Thank you for reading & vive la Poésie!