Voici une traduction littérale

Voici une traduction littérale
De ma poésie en anglais

Ma vraie langue est inconnue
Mon monde réel n’est jamais vu

Here is a literal translation

Here is a literal translation
Of my poetry into English

My real language is unknown
My real world is never seen

Three short poems

Tonight

My dreams will reproach me
For running backwards
Into the stream of infinity

They will hang me
From a high tower
Then make me descend
Into a cellar of confinement

They will chase me
Up a dark steep hill
With a sharp hatchet
I’ll hide behind a wall of nightmare

They will show me
The secrets of my heart
Disguised as spiders
Then daylight will fall like a hole

The Missing Link

I’m the missing link
The monkey that can think
I had no mother, had no father
I had no food, had no drink

I’m the missing link
I’ve been dead for a long time
I’ve had no love, had no hate
..
I’m the missing link

I’m waiting to fill my place
I’m waiting to unite you
There’s a gap in the human race
Left by the blues

First Words

The place that language came from was lost;
That well at the beginning of the world, its water;
That wet the dry throat of man, with words
Newly formed like soft fruit on dusky trees.

That source of inspiration for words;
Words that were formed by thoughts;
Thoughts that produced words
And named the eye, the nose, the mouth.

Words that first described the heartbeat,
The red colour of the heart;
The passion, the tempest within
That rocked furiously until it beat.

The place where language first was heard;
The first echo of the first word;
That first warm word, its breath of air;
The breath now cold, and mingled where?

Millions more have breathed and prayed,
That air, that filled all lungs since then,
Now non can feel and no-one know
That place that language came from.