Autumn On My Page
There is a wind , which sketched,
Without my knowledge, the message;
Autumn had lying words,
On my page.
It was by way of red leaves,
The bird of passage,
Twirling in space,
I followed it of my glance
And its woven loops,
On the canvas of the sky.
I just transcribed,
What the wings,
Supported on the wind,
Said to me.
-
(translated from french )
--
C'est un vent qui traçait,
A mon insu, le message ;
L'automne avait couché les mots,
Sur ma page.
C'étaient en guise de feuilles rousses,
L'oiseau de passage,
Virevoltant dans l'espace,
Je l'ai suivi de mon regard,
Et de ses boucles tissées,
Sur la toile du ciel .
J'ai seulement retranscrit,
Ce que les ailes,
Appuyées sur le vent,
M'avaient dit.
Copyright © Rene Chabriere | Year Posted 2014
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