Home French Poems

I don’t know if owning a beautiful home,
Facing the sea, makes happy,
There are people who do not manage their thoughts,
And that makes them dangerous,

There are...

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Day after day, I was sad and depressed.
All I thought about was Marie and her short dress;
Long flowing hair and beautiful smile:
I'm afraid I won't...

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There once was a woman named Marie,
The most beautiful girl I've ever seen.
In the summer of June 2003,
I met her once in gay Paree.
We had...

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The Heraclee sky was a lurid, neon blue but the morning was surprisingly cool (at 54°). The antemeridian sun managed to cast sharp, surreal, black-hole...

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For conquests of smells that are plain stench,
Keep cornering perfumes of The French:
I’d seen an animated advance 
Towards a wide range of these perfumes
By seekers...

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This is my modern English translation of a French poem by Voltaire, one of my all-time favorite writers. The poem is followed by two translations...

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gathering her long dress in both hands,
she ran across her father’s green fields,
to the shore lines and its golden sands,
to his warm embrace, kisses she...

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Anna had been sent to school in Paris France,
     she was not feeling great about leaving her friends;
but Paris was such...

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When I was young,                                           ...

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Le Jardin De Ma Mere.


      A frayed straw hat protecting silvery grey,
      my mother got...

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i become a stone,
   still a leader,
but translation
transforms me,
   as i learn
      “le crayon est rouge.”

“Je...

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Looking back, one thing comes clean-glass clear
you were always there for me subduing every fear.

I tried to do my duty, be a husband strong and...

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The battles ower ,smoke settles ower the moor,
Clans are broken flying aff tae the hills.
Redcoated sodjers mingle with red Heilan blude,
Killing the wounded in Drumossie...

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I went for a morning stroll
I had a decision to make
A road to choose
I knew where I was heading
French bread and rosin bun
I took the...

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I stood on the cobbled street
at midnight - gentle wafts of the Cassis vineyards
dancing on air, mixing, not unpleasantly,
with the bite of late December,
(reminding me...

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