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Michel Galiana, 20 november 2011
Fear
This place where instant does not cease
Is an unchanging stage setting
Made up of rock of pearl of freeze
Where a deathless drama proceeds
Titled refusal of living
Where lily knows not of decay
Of perfume of bees of struggle
That ends when all is charred away
Of hunger's wondrous display
Of ponderousness and tumble
Into a rock is turned the stream
And for having scorned to travel
The tale prince who preferred to dream
Was laid alive as dead he seemed
Forever on bier and trestles
To dig out the grotto of song
There's no need of killing all pains
Of letting the god run among
Fields that he'll make barren and wrong
Worse than wealth that from trance refrains
Any fire is doomed to be gem
Henceforth anyone's lip is dead
Whose wandering has reached its term
And his tear to pearl shall be turned
That could be raging gale instead
HANTISE
L'instant n'aborde pas ce port
Mais le roc la perle le givre
Dressent l'immuable décor
Où jouer le drame sans mort
Dont le titre est refus de vivre
Le lys ignore le déclin
Le parfum l'abeille la lutte
L'envol qui fut flammes et fin
Les sortilèges de la faim
L'abandon grave de la chute
En rocher se fige le vent
Et par son dédain du voyage
Gagne le prince au bois rêvant
Le lit grabat du mort vivant
Où ne saurait l'éveiller l'âge
Pour forer la grotte du chant
Faut-il tuer toute souffrance
Faut-il au dieu livrer le champ
Stérile plus et plus méchant
Que l'or où se fige la transe
Etre gemme est destin du feu
Désormais toute lèvre est morte
Pour qui gagne le port de dieu
Et son pleur sera perle au lieu
D'être le vent brisant la porte
Michel Galiana, 9 december 2011
Crystal body
To become a mirror. New meanings to contrive.
May the song that you raised become both source and path;
A flawed Aldebaran of closing walls deprived;
A boundless flight sketching in the face of the wraith
Who surrounded your rest, your sense, with your own fire.
A sphere changed to hub distorts your memory.
Can the wing be the point whence tears itself the cry?
Inmost depths where the scroll unrolls transparency,
A forbidden knowledge where the world is inscribed.
Stubbornly breaking waves shall dispose of your spears,
And your beacon's glitter shall sink into this jail,
Sheer radiance, your final display at last appears.
A diamond shall tip the restless, wobbling scales.
Sparkles shall blind your eyes. Silence shall numb your ears.
Corps de cristal
Devenir le miroir. Réinventer le sens.
Le chant que tu levas deviendra source, sente,
Aldebaran fautive où les murs sont absents.
Un vol illimité dessinera l'absente
Qui cerne de tes feux tes haltes et tes sens.
Une sphère en moyeux agence ta mémoire.
L'aile est-elle le point d'où s'arrache le cri?
Transparence, au tréfonds déroule le grimoire.
Un savoir interdit où le monde s'inscrit.
L'onde en bris renoué dispersera ta lance
Et lueur, en l'éclat englouti, ton fanal,
Le seul rayonnement formera ton final.
Le diamant immobilisera la balance.
Eblouissement. Scintillation. Silence.
Michel Galiana, 1 march 2012
Renée Le Glas
I
O listen all attentively
I'll sing you a new melody!
A song about little Renée
Whom her parents married away
This year Renée the Pale was wed
But loved another one, instead.
Everything started when Renée
Has asked her mother one day:
- Pray, what is in our house afoot,
Hearth fire and three caldrons to boot?
One of them red-hot already,
The big and the small, presently?
- I am surprised by your question:
It's to celebrate your union!
- If tomorrow I'm to marry
I'll go to bed immediately.
I'll go immediately to bed
And I'll rise at daybreak, she said.
I'll rise at daybreak tomorrow:
My wedding dress I must narrow. -
Renée the Pale then has addressed
Her little maid with a request:
- My friend, concerning my lover,
Would you do me a small favour?
To my clerk's with this letter go!
His eyes with tears must overflow.
- O my young mistress, this moment
For you I shall go on errand. -
At Kervalbrey's the little maid-
Servant arrived soon and she said:
- My greeting to all everyone!
Tell me where is your eldest son?
- He is in bed, sick and aching
Since he heard of Renée's wedding.
His bed is in the library.
Go, you won't miss him, certainly! -
- Young Clerk, I wish you good morning!
- Good morning, maid who's so charming!
- Here is a note for you to read:
You should peruse it. Go ahead!
- This letter, if it tells the truth,
My anxious mind never will soothe
She has but three days to live! Still
I'll die before. I am so ill! -
II
Renée the Pale said, one morning
At her bedroom's window leaning:
- Over there I see a party
That will cross Diez Wood presently.
Yves Sellar rides ahead of all:
A special curse on him I call!
And on my father and mother,
And all such as raised a daughter
And all such as a daughter raised
Just to decide all in her stead. -
To the church when they all did stroll
They heared the bell for the clerk toll...
Three times the poor girl swooned and fell.
Yves helped her up. Ominous bell!
Renée the Pale told the parson
Who celebrated the union:
- Quick, hurry up! Or I shall pass
Away before you said the mass. -
III
Renée said on entering the house
Where lived the mother of her spouse:
- To your daughter-in-law don't frown,
But show her a bench to sit down!
- I am surprised you should be tired.
Had you not a fine horse to ride?.
- I would have come on foot, for sure,
If this had been a pleasant tour.
If I am your daughter-in-law,
Show me my bed. I will withdraw.
- Over there: in the library.
- My son Yves keep her company!
And in God's name, cheer her up, please!
She did not eat. Make her at ease!
- My beloved one, good day to you.
- Young widower, I greet you, too.
I do not mistake you for such
But soon the word won't be too much! -
She arranged for herself a chair,
And for him, with the greatest care.
- My poor husband, if you love me,
Let me go to the wake, briefly.
To the wake, briefly, let me go.
- To the funeral wake? Oh no!
Since tonight is your wedding night.
But to the interment you might.
- My friend, I'd like, with your consent,
To make my will and testament:
In the pouch of my wedding gown
There's a sum of five hundred crowns:
This will be for you, my husband,
For the expense you had to stand.
The same with the apron I did:
Another fifty crowns are hid.
Please, give them to the little maid:
I bothered her to get her aid
And aimless letters to convey
From Manor Glas to Kervalbrey.
Further, within my cotillion
Are sixty crowns in addition:
Part of it should be for the poor.
But for the priests you'll keep a score,
That they may once for us both pray
Whom in the cold glebe they will lay. -
Upon her lap his head she bent.
Now her life had come to an end.
O God, grant pardon to the dead!
Upon the trestles they were laid.
Their souls to heaven they took flight
They wed before God the same night.
They did not sleep in the same bed,
In the same grave they lie instead
By one another they took stand
To be united by God's hand
Translated from the Breton
Michel Galiana, 28 november 2011
Memory
As years go by my tongue refrains
But unscathed is my memory.
One stem, hundred redundant drains
That drive on the sap it contains
Keep reviving my history
To the rock shrivelled by old age
Abandoned to love I was tied
And felt pains nothing could assuage
Till contemptible past was chased
Out by magic spells of a child
Phoenix who dies when you revive
Be alternately weal and woe
Blood-red flowers be hoards for hives
And may, rekindled, soar and thrive
The captive fire that's still aglow
A fire with no outset nor end
Keeps ablaze our innermost dreams
It would be a swindler's attempt
To set a limit to our trend
On shores that are but empty scenes
Smouldering flames be encouraged
They're wings that will once take away
The birds striving from age to age
To swap their abject caged bondage
For the hazards of liberty
Souvenir
Si les ans ont glacé les mots
Ils n'ont aboli ma mémoire
Un seul tronc pour mille rameaux
Et la sève en essors gémeaux
A réanimé mon histoire
Sur le vieux rocher racorni
A l'amour livré sans défense
D'où tous repos furent bannis
Ont chassé le passé honni
Les sortilèges de l'enfance
Phénix qui meure en renaissant
Sois tour à tour bonheur et peine
Ouvre l'abeille aux fleurs de sang
Et que surgisse plus puissant
Le feu qui dormait sous le pêne
Un feu qui n'a germe ni fin
Habite aux gîtes de nos rêves
Et ce sont ruses d'aigrefin
De renommer termes et fins
Ces vains pays que sont nos grèves
Flamme couvant aux coeurs tapis
Est aile pour la délivrance
De l'oiseau qui n'a de répits
Qu'il n'ait d'âge en âge repris
Sa liberté dans la souffrance
Michel Galiana, 10 december 2011
Alphabet
A brightly coloured day encouraging freely
Great hordes in joyfully knowable lavishness
May not order people queer rogues so to undress
Without xenophobic yesterday's zealotry.
Astres, brutes chaussées d'effrois, frêles granules,
Hautains, incendiez, joyaux, kriss lumineux,
Mais n'osez pas que rois souterrains, ténébreux,
Ululant vers wadi, xènes y zinzinulent!
Michel Galiana, 26 november 2011
Passion
Safe shipwreck body lithe and fair
Is there a ship that would not stray
In the placid net of her hair
In the still maelstrom of her glare
Or on the mouth of my moray
A cry bursts forth whence rises flesh
And it exposed solitude
A choicer and wilier dish
Than were the dead men and the fish
On which used to feed her quietude
Subtle eater you should follow
Me and be my hail and my woe
Recall to me the ancient law
Of which I'll stand anew in awe
To be fully present to you
Passion
Naufrage sûr corps onduleux
Est-il vaisseau qui ne se prenne
Au rets serein de ses cheveux
Au maelström calme de ses yeux
A la bouche de ma murène
Le cri jailli d'où naît le corps
A révélé la solitude
Mets plus suave et plus retors
Que les poissons ou que les morts
Qui nourrissaient sa quiétude
Subtil mangeur retrouve moi
Sois mon salut et mon supplice
Rappelle moi l'antique loi
Et que redevienne effroi
Où ma présence s'accomplisse
Michel Galiana, 11 june 2012
Young Widow
THE YOUNG MAN
- O listen my darling widow!
It's about time for you to know
What you should leave, what you should do.
So I came to your house to woo.
THE WIDOW
- This year I don't think of marrying
Nor shall I come out of mourning.
I'll enter a convent instead
To God that's the promise I made.
THE YOUNG MAN
- To a convent why should you go?
My town is the place for you, though.
It's the rose's and fine herbs' doom
That in the garden they should bloom.
.
THE WIDOW
- The roses may thrive in a yard
The yew trees prefer the churchyard.
The Husband Whom I have chosen
Has created Earth and Heaven.
THE YOUNG MAN
- Take, that silver ring, fair widow!
And your hand upon me bestow!
Put it right now on your finger.
I'll do it if you like better.
THE WIDOW
- There is no ring, whatsoever,
That I would put on my finger
Except the ring that God bestows
On whoever will take their vows.
THE YOUNG MAN
- Then you have decided that I,
Without further delay, should die!
THE WIDOW
- Young man, I shall make good to you
For the time you have spent to woo;
For the time you wasted in vain
Hoping a wedding ring to gain:
I shall pray to God, day and night
He might us in Heaven unite. -
Translated from the Breton
***********************************
LA JEUNE VEUVE
LE JEUNE HOMME
- Ma douce veuve, cher amour
Je suis venu faire ma cour;
Car, voyez-vous, il est grand temps
De prendre un parti maintenant.
LA VEUVE
- Me marier cette année? Jamais!
Jamais mon deuil ne quitterai.
Sachez que je vais au couvent.
C'est là que le bon Dieu m'attend...
LE JEUNE HOMME
- Vous n'irez point dans ce couvent
Mais dans mon village, vraiment.
La rose, le lis, le jasmin
Sont faits pour orner les jardins.
LA VEUVE
- Si la rose au jardin prospère
L'if ne se plait qu'au cimetière.
Le seul époux cher à mon cœur
N'est autre que mon créateur.
LE JEUNE HOMME
- Recevez, ma douce, en présent,
Recevez cet anneau d'argent!
Passez-le donc à votre doigt.
Ou me faut-il le passer, moi?
LA VEUVE
- Jamais d'anneau je ne prendrai
Ni d'alliance ne passerai
Si ce n'est l'anneau d'or que Dieu;
Donne à qui prononce ses vœux.
LE JEUNE HOMME
- C'est donc ma mort que vous voulez,
Me voir sans retard expirer!
LA VEUVE
- Je compenserai, c'est certain,
Ce temps que vous perdez en soins
Pour moi. Tous ces espoirs futiles,
Cet anneau de noce inutile.
Et je prierai Dieu, jour et nuit,
Qu'il nous unisse au paradis.
Traduit du breton
Michel Galiana, 11 april 2012
Little Louise
I wear holes in my stockings
And I wore out my clogs,
And I wore out my clogs,
Since I started a-wooing,
Gay gay gay fonladondennig
Since I started a-wooing,
Chasing Lou through meads and bogs.
Everyone begs her graces
When Louise to church walks
In her dress trimmed with laces,
About her are all the talks.
In her dress trimmed with laces,
With roses in her hair,
The lads give backward glances,
Every lass an angry glare.
As she goes by, the lasses
To one another tell:
"I guess, no one surpasses
Her in beauty: she's the belle."
All the town dwellers whisper
In one another's ear:
"You're in fashion and proper
Now if you wear jet-black gear."
"I'm unaware of fashion
And I do not speak French.
A noble who hears Breton,
Will keep as dumb as a tench.
Now, to speak French, if needed,
I'll have a little maid
And if I get confused
I shall summon her for aid.
She shall dress and undress me
Help me off with my shoes
And to bed she shall see me
Where I'll sleep with whom I'll choose."
Neither rain, nor hail ever,
Nor the snow on the ground,
Should discourage a lover
Once a soul mate he has found.
Translated from the Breton
Michel Galiana, 20 july 2012
REMED AN AMOUROUS KLAÑV
It's not good, so wise people say
To let nature sway her own way;
It is wise to control nature:
Be not tender beyond measure!
No rain ever that did not cease,
No wind that time did not appease;
Tenderness may unite two fools:
As time goes by, tenderness cools.
And yet a handful of fondness,
Is more worth than wealth, quite doubtless!
While fondness brings your heart comfort,
Riches have double-edged import.
My girl's beauty I highly prize:
With her pink cheeks, with her blue eyes,
With her mouth fair beyond compare,
About her, aye, she has an air!
Her eyes illuminate her face,
They are limpid and full of grace,
Her brow, a half-moon as it were...
With all my heart I do love her.
Like nutmeg is her darling heart:
The highest delight, for my part;
Nutmeg is a treat of fragrance.
Love holds the pain in abeyance.
If I lie sick upon my bed,
Let come my sweetheart near my head,
Is health not restored presently?
No use of any remedy!
Whenever she passes my door,
These four things bother me no more:
World-weariness, despondency,
Aching pain and melancholy.
(Translated from the Breton)
Michel Galiana, 30 november 2011
The Moray
Under the old fort's walls flashes past the moray.
Its fair body is tanned by the salt and the sun.
Did sun light upset you where reaches no more ray
Or some fit of fever prompt you to this rash run?
Buccaneers once looted there where dwelt the moray.
One might the craggy cliffs climb up to their fortress.
But to sap walls of hate who would go on foray,
With a kiss force open this white enamelled mass?
Oblivion now covers the realm of the moray
And mere silt ebbs and flows watched by rusty bombards.
A skull on a pale in no mood for amore
Challenges my banners, my flags and my standards.
LA MURENE
Sous les remparts -éclair- cingle la murène,
Beau corps bruni par le sel et le soleil.
Est-ce au soleil faute si je te mus reine
Ou d'un appel à quelque fièvre pareil.
Le boucanier pillait où fut la murène
De ses fortins escalader les redans.
Mais quel piton pour jeter bas ce mur haine,
Planter la langue au blanc massif de ces dents?
A pris l'oubli la cité de la murène.
La vase bat sous la garde des canons.
Au pic brandi tournoie un chef, hure haine,
Pour remplacer mes bannières et pennons.
Latest comments:
12 may 2024
Melancthe
Kajzerki są przereklamowane ;)
11 may 2024
kb
wielki wypas - był albo może będzie. kto wie...
11 may 2024
sama prawda z tym myśleniem i psoceniem ale
11 may 2024
zastanowiło mnie czy owe cenienie kajzerek wynika
11 may 2024
jeśli tylko
skomponowane kolorystycznie..
11 may 2024
violetta
To co te kozy dziobią i dlaczego? Co na to aktywiści?
10 may 2024
Jaga
Podobne miałam odczucia, kiedy zobaczyłam wyspę.
10 may 2024
Weronika
Nie wyrzucaj. Niech to będzie memento dla naszej
10 may 2024
W tym sęk, że tam gdzie one się pasą nie
10 may 2024
Wyjadają ostatnie źdźbła:)
10 may 2024
I pomyśleć, że w rzeczy samej podobno Bóg
10 may 2024
To prawda, jest częścią natury :) Dziękuję
13 may 2024
Satish Verma
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Satish Verma
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Jaga
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wiesiek
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wiesiek
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wiesiek
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