Les
oiseaux ne chantent plus dans les plaines
Ils sont partis loin,
Les ailes envolées de liberté,
Les migrateurs du temps,
Les nids sont vides,
Les oiseaux ne chantent plus dans les plaines.
Je regarde le temps,
Un sifflement me réveille,
Comme la saison d’automne qui se nocturne,
Des feuilles qui dansent encore accrocher un
instant,
Quelques nuages qui passent sans pluie dans les
plaines.
Je suis seul dans ces champs vides,
Une terre qui ne finie plus sur l’horizon des silences,
Les marmottes et gibiers sont déjà rentrés sous
terre,
Ils ont amassés les fruits du printemps,
Mon sceau ce remplie du fruit laisser par les volatiles.
Les filles sont déjà parties,
Jouer dans la cour des grands,
Nous courions ensemble un jour,
Le temps a passé dans les regards,
Je cueille le fruit pour mes poèmes,
Demain je ne pourrais revenir,
Le temps sera vide,
Un vent soufflera chassé les retardataires,
Qu’un vol de corbeaux croassé pour l’hiver,
Qu’une neige recouvrir les plaines à l’hiver.
Je suis seul,
Respirer un peu le souffle qui reste,
Sur les chemins éclaircis de saison déjà expirée,
Au loin j’entends un train qui passe,
Ils sont déjà en ville les gens d’un jour.
NICOLLE Edmond le 25.09.2013
Créateur de poésies depuis 1973
The birds no longer sing in the plains
They went away,
The wings of freedom soaring,
Migratory time
The nests are empty,
The birds no longer sing in the plains.
I look at the time,
A whistle awakens me
As the fall season that night,
Leaves dancing still hang for a moment,
A few passing clouds without rain in the plains.
I am alone in these fields blank,
Land that is over the horizon more silences,
Marmots and game have returned underground
They collected the fruits of spring
My seal the filled fruit left by the birds.
The girls are a party
Playing in the big leagues,
We ran together one day,
The time spent in looks,
I pick the fruit for my poems,
Tomorrow I might not come back,
The time will be empty,
A wind blows drove the laggards,
A flock of ravens croaked for winter
A snow covered plains in winter.
I am alone,
Breathe a little breath that remains
On cleared paths season already expired,
In the distance I hear a passing train,
They are already in the city a day's people.
NICOLLE Edmond 25.09.2013
Creator of poetry since 1973
http://poemesauxtraversdutemps.blogspot.fr/
They went away,
The wings of freedom soaring,
Migratory time
The nests are empty,
The birds no longer sing in the plains.
I look at the time,
A whistle awakens me
As the fall season that night,
Leaves dancing still hang for a moment,
A few passing clouds without rain in the plains.
I am alone in these fields blank,
Land that is over the horizon more silences,
Marmots and game have returned underground
They collected the fruits of spring
My seal the filled fruit left by the birds.
The girls are a party
Playing in the big leagues,
We ran together one day,
The time spent in looks,
I pick the fruit for my poems,
Tomorrow I might not come back,
The time will be empty,
A wind blows drove the laggards,
A flock of ravens croaked for winter
A snow covered plains in winter.
I am alone,
Breathe a little breath that remains
On cleared paths season already expired,
In the distance I hear a passing train,
They are already in the city a day's people.
NICOLLE Edmond 25.09.2013
Creator of poetry since 1973
http://poemesauxtraversdutemps.blogspot.fr/
Aucun commentaire:
Enregistrer un commentaire