Best Ils Poems

I can’t stop thinking,
That the earth is round, round
Like African women,
That the seagulls are white,
That dogs are crazy,
They bark at poets, writers,

I can’t stop thinking,
That the sun is a guitar
Who plays in the summer, in the blue sky,
That men do not love the saints,
That pear...

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Je suis accro à vos lèvres, ils me rendent fou

Drawn the attraction drowns 
screams pulled to seduction 

   pushed away nights 
   lead to dawn 
   where griped moons 
   wash ashore 

Soft eyes smile  anxiously...

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If you don’t listen to the birds, they won’t sing,
Sometimes you have to wake up early,
And it’s the same for everything in life,
If you don’t take the first step, you don’t exist.


Si vous n’écoutez pas les oiseaux, ils ne chanteront pas,
Il faut parfois savoir se...

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I don’t like cats, really,
They scare away birds, pretty ****,
The robin, the blackbird so smart,
They think only of eating weaker than them,
That to jump the balls of innocent wool, 
My garden had a sweet music yesterday,
Today it is quieter than a grave,
Cats scare away, nice...

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Ah, the birds,
Our faithful friends,
They know everything,

Your dear friends,
They Went away,
Oh birds,
Have understood it

Tell them
Your loves, 
Your concerns,

Oh birds,
They welcome
 At dawn,

Your loves,
Your cats, your dreams, 
The birds
Know everything.







Ah, les oiseaux,
Nos fidèles amis,
Ils savent tout,

Vos chers amis
S’en sont allés,
Ah les oiseaux,
L’ont compris

Dites-leur
Vos amours, 
Vos soucis,

Ah...

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Speak to the primrose,
Of this girl,
This princess
Haunting your thoughts
Without my permission,

Speak to the primrose,
From this satin wine
This nectar that flows 
In your glass,
Without my permission,

Talk with the primrose
You can’t live 
Without thinking of them
They never lied to you,
You know it today.





Parles en à la primevère,
De...

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I hear the whispers of past souls
That guide me through life’s
Wondrous garden of flowers.
Each flower has a unique 
And beautiful bloom.
I see how the fragile and 
Delicate injure easily and
Wither and die without protection.
I am amazed at the strength 
And endurance of the sturdy.
But most...

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Fruits noirs

Sans qu’on y prenne garde,
Le ciel se tisse du grillage
Sombre des branches.
Elles  s’étendent  chaque année,
Et chaque année,
Grignotent un peu plus d’espace,

Au point de parfaire une voûte
Et d’arriver à se rejoindre,
En confisquant le peu de lumière,
Stagnante, sous les dernières
Feuilles de novembre,
La sève lentement...

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J'apprends le français en ce moment
parce que j'ai l'intention de voyager à Paris.
Je ne parle pas couramment le français.
J'ai découvert Le Lac il y a quelques années.

Par un mariage
Du côté de ma mère,
nous sommes liés à l'écrivain français /
romancier Pascal Lainé.
Dentelle délicate,
une histoire d'Apple.

Je ne...

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J'ai appris que jamais, les anges ne mentent

Car tout ce qui est faux, emprisonne nos âmes

Loin d'un ciel bien trop haut, dans un destin infame 

Lié au sort mauvais, que la tristesse hante

        

Si tes mots s'effilochent dans...

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Les Protecteurs – Translation of Oodgeroo Noonuccal’s “The Protectors” by T. Wignesan

(Note: Oodgeroo never claimed to write poetry à la manière des poètes occidentaux; she said - without mincing words – her lines were sheer ‘propaganda’. Others thought otherwise:
Judith Wright, a part-time reader for the...

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Silently waiting amidst the full moon's sink'd smile,
Farfetch’d upon the grazing winds of steeping mountains,
Seemingly dead eyes, tear’d and wash’d and wash’d,
Flow of glaciers and broken crevasse - a sacred fig, lost?
No. yellow clouds; damn’d of darkness and stemm’d from beyond,
Of ye ol’ doubts and...

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L’octroi des droits à Jacky – Translation of Mudroroo Narogin’s « They Give Jacky Rights » by T. Wignesan


(Note : The first aboriginal writer to have achieved – according to Kevin Gilbert’s Inside Black Australia – international fame with his novel : Wild at Falling...

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 La Fête foraine de Scarborough (La Version complète)
 
      For the medieval English poet and Simon and Garfunkel 
-	In admiration -

Allez-vous à Scarborough fête foraine ?
(Sur la côte d'une colline dans le vert intense d'une forêt) 
Persil, sauge, romarin...

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Mama – Translation of Kevin Gilbert’s « Mum » by T. Wignesan

Kevin Gilbert (July 10, 1933 – April 1, 1993) - father of Irish-English ancestry, mother an aboriginal from New South Wales - was orphaned at seven. His elder sisters looked after him until he...

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