Best Claude Monet Poems
Claude Monet
all those lilies that got in his way
traversing those pads
it's now understood was just one of his fads.
I am devastated, dumbfounded, dismayed,
These people are so stupid, or crazy,
They threw some hot soup
On a painting by Claude Monet,
These people are ridiculous, wicked,
Who will listen to them? Not me,
How can you believe what they say?
They destroy immortal works,
These people are so stupid, or crazy,
No one will defend their cause,
They’re like child killers
Who come to talk to us about God.
Je suis catastrophé, médusé, atterré,
Ces gens sont si idiots, ou fous,
Ils ont jeté de la soupe chaude
Sur une toile de Claude Monet,
Ces gens sont ridicules, méchants,
Qui voudra les écouter ? Pas moi,
Comment croire ce qu’ils disent ?
Ils saccagent des œuvres immortelles,
Ces gens sont si idiots, ou fous,
Personne ne défendra leur cause,
Ils sont comme des tueurs d’enfant
Qui viennent nous parler de Dieu.
I could've gone to Holland. I could've gone to Spain.
I could've gone to Denmark. I could've gone insane,
But instead I came here, where the river mirrors life
In a fractured, dream-like way on this brilliant summer day
By the Bridge at Argenteuil.
A couple in a rowboat, a woman and a man,
In silent conversation discussing future plans,
But they’re frozen in time. No one’s getting anywhere.
And I feel the same dismay, as though rooted in the clay
By the Bridge at Argenteuil.
It isn’t for the distance. The water's not that wide.
The house in which I lived is standing on the other side.
I just can't get across. There's a darkness shrouds my soul,
Wounds me more than words can say, lost in shades of charcoal gray
By the Bridge at Argenteuil.
With hands in empty pockets, holding on to all that’s mine.
My best possessions taken, the rest just left behind.
And the cold, dancing light that’s reflected on the Seine
Mocks the feelings I betray, with its shimmering ballet
By the Bridge at Argenteuil.
It strides across the river on pilings made of stone.
Without the means to burn it, I loiter here alone
At this shrine to the past and to all I gave away,
But I didn’t come to pray. I’m a pilgrim gone astray
By the Bridge at Argenteuil.
French artist Claude Monet
painted scenes from life occurring day to day.
Peace he found from his large garden pond
where paintings of 250 water lilies he spawned.
impression melts before our eyes-
into a blurred memory