Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Monique Morelli - Ronsard - When I see you


Original Title: "Quand je vous vois"
Text: Pierre de Ronsard

When I see you, or when I think of you
Of a shiver all my heart quivers
My blood stirs and of a fertile thought
Another one grows, so sweet is the subject to me.

I tremble all of nerves and knees
Like the was in the fire, I distil myself
My reason falls and my strength useless
Leaves me cold breathless and without pulse.

I look like the dead, who is tumbled down the grave
So gaunt am I, dreadful and pale
Seeing my senses turn into death

And somehow I take pleasure in my embers.
Of an alike ill one and the other feel comfortable
I to die and you to kill me.


All poems written by Ronsard

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

Jacques Bertin - To Doctor L.


Original Title: "Au Docteur L"
Vehicule stopped on the side of the road
"Do you need help...comrade?"

I have seen you when I was passing by very fast.
Exhausted in the screaming morning which was coming
I have seen you and I didn't stop
I have seen too many tired men
Tired, exhausted, open mouth
Worn out by the road, impossible to hold on
when the day is coming

I have seen you in bars on the morning
When you have smoked your pack of cigarettes during the night
The alcohol ends up triggering the tide in you
The filter only sends in the circuit the words that really hurt

You are unfair with your life
But afterall it has blinkers on the eyes
Like an horse which drags itself forever
Without knowing what it drags
Toward the final paddock
Anyway its legs are already hurting

Some evenings, at a friend's house,
Drunken with tiredness and emptiness
Suddenly grabbed by the elation of the suicidal ones
You start yelling about being useful and pure
And to burn one's life in one's pipe
For default of another tobacco

Buddies pretend that those are drunken words
But they look at you with terror
Like you they see the truth about the state of the sick one
And the weird color of the sheets

The wife, one has chosen
Whom we do not love anymore
Whom we still love
On whom young people turn round in town
Without her believing in it
She listens and pushes back as much as she can
The door on that cold
Because for that business she is more advanced than you

She doesn't know if she still loves you
It does not matter
One has to put the machine back in one's old way
And start off again

Oh woman, Oh woman
Do not turn away from that man please
Let's go inside, Doctor
Let's go inside that house
Which will never be our house

Stop the car
I do not know where
But I hurt
Breathe the air coming from the native country

Vehicle stopped on the side of the road
Do you need help comrade
I have seen too many tired men
If I tell you: I am happy
Ah believe me
Would you have a grudge against me, Comrade
If I do not stop
I pass at top speed well protected by my young age
Doctor, hold the hand of that incomporable companion you have
Start the engine again, it'll be fine by driving quietly

Monday, July 4, 2016

Jean-Roger Caussimon - The buddies of May



Original Title: "Les copains de mai"
On the path of my Bohemia
I have seen childreen pass
If they were anxious about the future
They still wanted to hope
Our meeting was too brief
Where, without saying it, we were in love
While sharing the same dreams
The time for a month of may to last
The time for a month of may to last

Because this city we hasten ourself to
Is merciless to the springs
Life takes them Life city spoils them
In the banal way I mean
In the banal way I mean

Not wanting to appear more gamine
Nor weaker than boys anymore
The girls had ways
Slightly troubling of androgynes
Love was, if you listened to them,
Nothing but hobby by mutual agreement
It was of course to deny
Suffering and crying because of it
Suffering and crying because of it

Because this city we hasten ourself to
Is merciless to the lovers
Life takes them Life city spoils them
In the cruel way I mean
In the cruel way I mean

On three chords of a guitar
We were singing the same songs
But destiny has its reasons
Undoubtly when it parts us
Am I still in your memory
I who would like to beg you
To never think nor believe
That I could forget about you
That I could forget about you

Because this city we hasten ourself to
Is merciless to the missings one
Life takes them Life city spoils them
In the meaningless way I mean
Where are your teenager hearts?

Mouloudji - We have to live

Original Title: " Faut vivre " Despite the big eyes of the void "It's to better eat you, child" And the silence...