Failed Poet / Poète raté

It was so presumptuous of me
to think I was able to write
about the beauty of the sunset light!

Still, I wrote my lines in Moonlight.
But no one liked the paper words
I found at Night, after the sun had gone.

Silence is gifted. Silence is enough.
So tomorrow I will throw all my poems
into the great Fire of Dawn,

and when I scatter their ashes
I will tell myself that finally
it’s not so bad to be a failed poet.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

Au coucher du soleil la lumière est si belle !
J’ai cru pouvoir le dire. Ce n’était pas la peine.
J’écrivais au clair de lune mais nul n’aima
les mots de papier qu’à la Nuit je trouvais.

Le silence est doué, le silence suffit.

Aussi demain je jetterai mes poèmes
au grand feu de l’aurore
et puis en dispersant leurs cendres
je me dirai que ce n’est pas si grave d’être

un poète raté.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

Rain Pearls

please
let us look at rain pearls closer
words from the heart are the Heart

and then we’ll see
through tears of light
the beauty of your soul

listen to poetry
paint transparency
write a poem!

© Frédéric Georges Martin

Paper Birds

How much do words weigh?
Will Summer find its way?
Could paper birds teach me
the art of asking the right questions?

Someone left the window open
and the Door ajar.
The stars shine over the hawthorn hedge.
The Night brings a wealth of knowledge.

I let the paper birds fly away.
Happiness takes patience.
When they come home,
they will bring me answers.

© Frédéric Georges Martin