Jardin de cendres / Garden of Ashes

Dans le jardin de cendres
les fleurs vivent dans le déni.
De leurs vives couleurs
monte un parfum d’insolence :
contre la sombre évidence,
elles ne croient qu’en la Vie.

Dans mon jardin de pierres
je veux vivre comme elles,
mentir à la Mort
et au noir crépuscule oser parler à Dieu
pour lui dire en retenant mes larmes
“le Paradis c’était ici”.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

In the garden of ashes
flowers live in denial.
They have vibrant colors
and a fragrance of insolence:
against the dark evidence
they only believe in Life.

In my stone garden
I want to live like them,
I want to lie to Death
and if I can hold my tears back
at dusk I will tell God
“Heaven was Here”.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

Illustration: Corner of a Garden (John Singer Sargent, c.1879)

Behind the Blue Door

Behind the Blue Door
there’s a garden and more,
flowers falling from an apple tree
and all what the eyes cannot see.

Before the Blue Door
one must stand still and silent,
there’s no door handle
but a Message to your heart:

Love! Love is the password!

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

La Porte bleue © 2020– F.G.M.

The Forgotten Poem

Have you seen Mnemosyne
in the garden of lost Springs?
I wish I could remember
the Forgotten Poem!

Was it about
a thousand-year-old tree
or the light within
the smallest fragment of time?

I guess it was written
by the breeze in a dream
with silent words of yours,

a sonnet engraved
in the nightingale’s heart,
all about Life and Love.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

Countdown

ten
let’s try the word

nine
existence

eight
there is a light

seven
in the distance

six
no matter if

five
it’s raining

four
remember

three
the beauty of a rose

two
not eveything ends

one
there we go

zero
come into the rainbow!

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

illustration: Rainbow
(Arkhip Kuindzhi)

Garden of Words / Le Jardin

Let there be a Garden.
A Garden of Words
where the breeze blows slowly
and time goes back.

Ivy covered walls and a bench
facing the beautiful sunrise,
jasmine and clematis
climbing up old pear trees,

small white roses
humbly standing in the light
and shy patient ferns
with closed eyes.

A place like this is rare.
But now we can find it.
Please come whenever you like.
I will always be there.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

De ces quelques mots
je fais un jardin.
Un jardin caché derrière
un mur de lierre.

J’y ai planté du jasmin
qui grimpe dans un vieil arbre sage
et j’y ai mis un banc
d’où l’on voit peut voir

le soleil levant.
Et de petites roses blanches,
et de patientes fougères
aux grands yeux fermés.

Viens !
Ce jardin est le tien.
Et toujours tu pourras
m’y retrouver.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

Fallen Angel

I am a fallen angel.
In Heaven
I had a good job.
I was a gardener.

But I killed snails
and God fired me.
“They eat flowers!”
I said, but God replied

“That’s no excuse!”

Since that time
I’ve crawled around
the wide world
with my broken shell

and gardens after the rain
are the only place
where I can find
peace.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

Birds are eternal

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

Heart Penny

in the city of lost Angels
there’s a little shop of light

it’s open all night
it’s a joyful mess

the Shopkeeper is
the soul of kindness

the Moon costs two smiles
and all the stars are free

life lessons have no price
but Time and Love are so cheap

and you can buy Eternity
for only one Heart Penny

© Frédéric Georges Martin

A Ray of Sunshine / Un rayon de soleil

Before I leave
I will pack my suitcase.
I will take the breeze of our
most beautiful Summer,

silk memories
genuine laughs
the scent of a rose
and the fifth name of God.

Thus I will travel light.
And when I get there,
you will tell me
warm words of welcome.

Here
you don’t need anything.
The Sun shines.
Now you are

a ray of sunshine.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

Avant de partir
je ferai ma valise.
J’y mettrai la brise
de notre plus bel été,

des souvenirs de soie
le rire de nos âmes
le parfum d’une rose
et le cinquième nom de Dieu.

Ainsi je voyagerai léger.
Et quand j’arriverai
vous me direz des mots
gentils et chaleureux.

Ici
tu n’as besoin de rien.
Il fait beau.
Désormais tu es

un rayon de soleil.

© Frédéric Georges Martin