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.

la-seine-en-hiver

Qui est la plus belle ?
la Seine ou la lumière d’hiver ?
L’autre rive ou celle-ci ?

Ou peut-être
l’âme du peintre
marchant sur l’eau ?

Je crois bien c’est la tienne,
Ange fidèle
qui toujours m’accompagne.

~

Which one is the most beautiful?
The Seine River or the light of Winter?
This side of the River or the other one?

Or maybe
the painter’s soul
walking on water?

I believe it is yours,
faithful angel,
always by my side.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

La Seine en Hiver  © 2016 – F.G.M.

Renoir - The Seine at Asnières

I was walking along the Seine
between Chatou and Croissy
admiring upright hollyhocks
as proud as poor,

sunlight dancing on water,
trees by the riverside,
and pretty houses
with closed shutters,

when suddenly
and so mysteriously
I ran into Renoir’s ghost
and saw the Light again.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

illustration : The Seine at Asnières, Renoir (1879)

La Seine à Chatou (Renoir)

J’ai marché le long de la Seine
entre Chatou et Croissy
là où des peintres avec mélancolie
allaient pour oublier leur peine.

J’ai vu des roses trémières
qui se dressaient,
pauvres mais fières,
des reflets qui dansaient,

des arbres au bord de l’eau,
et de jolies maisons
aux volets à demi clos.
Et soudain, sans raison,

tristesse est devenue
confiance,
comme une évidence,
l’Espoir m’est revenu.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

illustration : The Seine at Chatou, Renoir (1881)