A Crack in the Sidewalk

Back from the past
I’ve seen cornflowers
growing from
a crack in the sidewalk.

Did the shadows behind
the windows of decrepit houses
smile at my broken dreams?
Walk your way the flowers said.

The lies of July make
the truth of Summer heard:
the darker the Night
the brighter the Stars.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

Dancers of Light

I’d like to plant a Dream tree
in the garden of lost words,
I know it can reach the sky
then bloom like a lotus.

I will climb up the tree
before jumping into a cloud
and if you throw me a rope
and hold out your hand to me

we’ll spend the Night
gazing at giant stars,
we’ll dance in the blue shade
as Dancers of Light do.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

The Flowers and the Sky (Mon étoile)

I was tempted to hate
the flowers and the sky
the trees and the Night

then I even thought about
not forgiving God.
The Soul sometimes needs
to wear black

and to hide from the stars.
But the Sun shines
behind the darkest clouds
and finally I sing:

mon étoile
did not leave me
et j’aime toujours
the flowers and the sky!

© Frédéric Georges Martin

Lettre au Marchand de Sable / Letter to the Sandman

Cher Marchand de Sable,

puisque je dois mourir,
je peux bien tout vous dire.
J’étais l’enfant de la mer,
roi de royaumes immenses.
Mais le vent a tourné
et mon coeur
tel un bateau de cristal
en mille éclats
sur le récif s’est brisé.
Mon rêve est une île trop lointaine,
je ne vois plus l’étoile du Berger.
Ce soir Dieu m’abandonne,
alors, sans aucun regret,

mon âme, je vous la donne.


Dear Mr Sandman

because I have to die
I can tell you everything.
I was the Child of the Sea,
the King of infinite realms.
But winds were harsh
and unforgiving. The tide turned,
and like a crystal boat
running aground the reef
my heart shattered
into a million pieces.
My dream is an island too far,
I lost sight of my lucky star.
Tonight God has forsaken me
and without any regrets

I give you my soul.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

In a Place of Peace

In a place of peace
I buried Hope with my own hands
I looked for heather in bloom
but could not find any flowers I like.

So I made a cross from twigs and ivy,
and my soul stood there,
naked in the wind, under onyx stars,
till the break of Dawn.

My sweetest Dream has gone,
I will not live on!
The truth has been left untold
and the sunlight looks so cold!

© Frédéric Georges Martin


illustration: The Cemetery Entrance
(Caspar David Friedrich, 1825)

Jamais trop tard / Never too late

Un matin de mai
j’ai vu sur un mur de Paris
écrit en lettres rouges
le mot AMOUR.

Cela m’a rendu triste,
car d’Amour
le monde manque tant,

et j’ai soudain pensé
plein de regrets
à tous mes “j’aurais-dû”
à tous mes “j’aurais-pu”.

Alors un ange ou peut-être
cet enfant en chacun de nous
a murmuré
“il n’est jamais trop tard !”

Un matin de mai
j’ai vu sur un mur de Paris
écrit en lettres rouges
le mot AMOUR.


On a May morning
I saw the word LOVE
written in red 
on a wall in Paris.

That made me feel sad,
so sad
for the world craves
a Love so deep!

 And I regretfully thought
about all my 
and “I-could-have”…

Then an angel
or maybe the child in each of us
“It’s never too late…”

On a May morning
I saw the word LOVE
written in red 
on a wall in Paris.

© Frédéric Georges Martin


illustration: image chef


Because I’d lost hope
I cried myself to sleep,
but I saw stars shining
through my tears.

I felt Someone’s hand
on my shoulder.
I heard a voice
from Elsewhere.

Give all your dreams back
to the Child in you.
He will make each of them
come true.

© Frédéric Georges Martin