Reste ici une moment
I am drowning in dreams
Because those eyes can’t be real
Abstracted and perfectly wild
There’s nothing tame about you, you know
I saw how you rested the palm of your hand
on the glass
Like a circle of cold you could hold
Le froid est une plague ; c’est la mort
Une seconde de plus
Stop.
Breathe in a moment and choke down the rain
It’s like sky honey dripping…
down, down…
And the cold isn’t tame
There’s something wild about you
And I’d never seen it before
Une jour
Ensoleillée...
Those eyes can’t be real
And you’ve never looked at me quite like that before
Abstracted and perfectly wild
Une chanson pour toi mon amour
C’est comme la mort tes cheveux
Que c’est noir
Black as the night sky and spinning away
Drowning in dreams
There’s something wild about you
And I’ve never seen it before.
***for some inexplicable reason this poem goes through my head like a song
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125,018 Literary Works • 672,857 Reviews
After mild speculation on my part, I've decided to provide a translation for the words, and I'll have you know that the french and the english tend not to relate until the end, because the french is being spoken by the people inside the poem.
Anyways, here goes:
Reste ici une moment = stay here a moment
le froid est une plague; c'est la mort = the cold is a plague; it is death
une seconde de plus = one second more
une jour
ensoleillée = a sunny day
une chanson pour toi mon amour = a song for you my love
c'est comme la mort tes cheveux = your hair is like the dead
que c'est mort = how it's black
Thus, I have, quite rightly, revealed the truth about french; it is a composition of the simplest and most beautiful of words in a tongue that was once described by native americans as birds singing... So that, in the end, it's utterance is pure romance, and is convoluted into an imperceivable sound of little meaning and much beauty.
Therefore, it worked for this poem.
Convoluted Empty = Un Vide Labyrinthique
Ooo! I do like this.
It's strange, simple, yet surprisingly (even with all that French) readable. And it draws a picture. A picture of a frosty night, with blues and whites... and a little cabin surrounded by trees.
Yeah. So poetry that draws a picture = good.
Well done!
Oooh... It gives me shivers...
The French is a really nice touch. I can barely pronounce it and don't know what any of it means, but it sounds beautiful. I liked the repetition of "those eyes can't be real" because each time it seemed to say something different without changing the words.
That should be a song.
The repetition at the end worked perfectly and really had a nice impact. Sorry I couldn't be more constructive, but I really can't find anything to change. Very nice work.
Why has this no comments?! Sheesh! Well anyway, this is ace. I love how it switches from english to french (and i love it even more that i can understand it all)
You really are a very talented poet. I've come to this conclusion after reading a few of your pieces
I especially like this part...
"sky honey" Nice way to describe rain, unusual.
But yeah, please dont stop writing these...because they really are beautiful.