She just said a few words
with a gentle smile
as if she wanted to apologize
for being sad and hopeless.

But you had taken an oath!
He reads your closed lips.
He sees the light in you,
and he will give you a sign!

Those we have lost
did not lose us.
Those who are gone
live deeper than we do.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

Illustration: Girl on a Park Bench (Charle Blackman, 1961)

There is an ocean between us
but the Moon has built
a bridge of light so as we can 
take a step towards one another.

And the stars move
in the silence of the night,
and love grows stronger
despite the distance.

These were the words
that echoed in my heart
after I saw you
in a wonderful dream.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

The Soul is a gold leaf
that dances and crumbles away
as it falls from a tree
on a grey November day.

The Soul is a snowflake
that shines in the white hugeness
under the cold Winter sun
of a magnificent Winter.

The Soul is a bird
that flies in the sky
and can reach for the stars
without waiting for the Night.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

I enter
a white church
so silently.
Is this a dream? Maybe.

Mary seems pleased.
Light from above erases
the shoulder wound of Christ.
I rest.

Thus begins real Life.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

En silence j’entre
dans une église blanche.
Est-ce un rêve ? Peut-être.

Marie semble heureuse.
Doucement la lumière touche
l’épaule blessée du Christ.

Je dors.
Ainsi commence
la vraie Vie.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

Eglise blanche, Lanzarote © 2019– F.G.M.

Did you hear
the voice of the stars in darkness?
Did you grasp
the nature of daylight?

The Light is the Mother of Light
as Love is the Father of Love,
and we can get through the night
without any fear
for we see in every man’s
and every woman’s eyes
their bright reflection.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

Avez vous dans les ténèbres entendu
la voix des étoiles?
Avez vous compris
la nature de la lumière du jour ?

La Lumière est mère de la lumière,
comme l’Amour est père de l’amour,
et nous pouvons aller sans peur
à travers la nuit
car nous voyons dans les yeux
de chaque homme et de chaque femme
leur éclatant reflet.

© Frédéric Georges Martin