The End / Terminé

Will ashes remember the Fire?
Will the Night hear from the Light?
“I” was a play on words
and so were the shadows of the world.

The stars are veiled, the poet has failed:
nothing will remain
but the dark whiteness of Silence.
THE END.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

Les cendres se souviendront-elles du Feu
et la nuit, de la Lumière ?
“Je” était un jeu de mot,
de même que les ombres du monde.

Les étoiles sont voilées, le poète a échoué
et rien ne restera
que l’obscure blancheur du Silence.
TERMINÉ.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

Illustration: White Line on Black (Jiro Yochihara, 1968)

Farewell to the Seine

She was quiet and almost sad.
Olds ladies were painting.
I could not say anything.
I just threw flowers in the river.

I don’t love you anymore
and I’m going to leave you.
Cruel words a poet should
never say to her muse.

How strangely still the water was!
Did the women notice something?
Flowers danced silently on the Seine.
Lost world in watercolours.

I left without looking back.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

Fleurs sur la Seine © 2019– F.G.M.

Prayer for a lonely Garden

My garden, my heaven,
I wonder who will listen
to the cherry tree spirits.
Will the rain quench your thirst?

And who will see the wandering
soul of the purple blue thistle?
My garden, my heaven,
I remember Winters. I remember Summers.

How brave snowdrops were!
How worthy the lily was!
But the hour is fast approaching:
I will soon be leaving

and I must pray for you.
May seasons be sweet. May children
marvel at your many wonders.
May you become

their Garden, their Heaven.

Frédéric Georges Martin

~

illustration: Daubigny’s Garden
(Vincent Van Gogh, 1890)

Radiant Sun

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

How to say

time flows
like a wild river
and I’m not exactly sure
how to say

goodbye

stars in the sky
shed light on the past
but they cannot reveal
the secret of how to say

I loved you

and words are unfaithful
they all will forget us
only silence knows
how to say

nothing is ever lost

© Frédéric Georges Martin

Gardener’s Tear

Claude Monet, The House at Giverny Viewed from the Rose Garden (1922-1924)

My garden, my friend,
I won’t go away
without saying farewell
without thanking you.

The old cherry tree knows much
about hope and gratitude,
and I’ll certainly learn from its knotted branches
one last lesson of patience and fortitude.

I smile to the white butterfly
flying in the blue light of bliss:
wildflowers seeds will ever stay
under the magic spell of Summer winds,

but I know I’m going to leave you
without looking back,
for no flower has ever grown
from a gardener’s tear.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

illustration : la maison vue du jardin aux roses,  Claude Monet (1922-1924)