Long Mains Poems

Translation of Les Moulins de mon Cœur-THE WINDMILLS OF YOUR MIND by T. Wignesan

(For the orignal text in French by Eddy MARNAY : see here below. The English version by Marilyn and Alan BERGMAN differs...

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Translation of Eric Mottram’s TIME SIGHT UNSEEN, Part One by T. Wignesan

"Instead of an item in a school of rhetoric, the poem could have variety of articulations, continuity and discontinuity, sentence and parataxis, and an...

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Translation of « On est les oubliés » (They/We are the neglected and forgotten lot)
by the songster-poet Gauvin SERS
(For the last two years, this young unassuming Frenchman, full of verve and disarming airs has been...

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1	A plume of dirt and grime envelops sky;
		The hellish slug of gas does creep along.
		It casts an orb three hundred stories high
		Over the Sun and ends his morning song.
		The birds and trees now stand a...

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 Translation of Eric Mottram’s HOMAGE TO PAUL ELUARD by T. Wignesan

(Note: Here, I retain EM’s translations into English from Paul Eluard’s poems and his source language quotations from “this vital spirits…” onwards, for, according...

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Number one.

"Good morning. Would you like tea with your breakfast?"

No. I want milk with my porridge but it hasn't yet come."

"You will have to ask them." 

"Who's them? Who should I ask? Which one?"

"The people...

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I told him who I was and explained my predicament and asked would it be possible to use their phone to get help, he said”  unfortunately we do not have a telephone.”Strange I thought,...

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There was poetry,
In the open fields,
On the slanted blueberries,
On the skirts of schoolgirls,

There was poetry,
In the sunny cupboards,
In the quiet gardens,
In the sweet air of spring,

There was some poetry
In the caressing hands,
In the chalk of...

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She wades in until the water reaches her waist,
looks out and continues into the endless sea.
Her imagined long gown floats behind her.

Her little girl shoulder blades 
become hidden beneath the water.
Each time she raises her...

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No one in this morning
The road is deserted,
It's too early under the gray sky,

The veins of my hands,
Salient hands on the wheel
The look Elevated

The white line scrolls,
The colored houses, fled,
Since the curves crossed,

Creeks glimpsed,
The white...

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Klacatoo – Translation of Kevin Gilbert ‘s « Klacatoo » by T. Wignesan

On nous avait coincé sur la rive de Lachlan
un endroit qui s’appelle Klacatoo
là où nous rassemblions au coucher du soleil
quand nous entendions le...

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French Version -

Demain, dès l'aube by Victor Hugo

Demain, dès l’aube, à l’heure où blanchit la campagne,
Je partirai. Vois-tu, je sais que tu m’attends.
J’irai par la forêt, j’irai par la montagne.
Je ne puis demeurer loin de...

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...Then he could see it, the boils,
on their neck and wrists, bright and red,
he felt an itch on his own back,
and felt a cold moment of dread.

Now Diaz could not ignore it,
and Mains’s words came...

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Now I know you’ve heard the story
of how I all was way back when,
when cowboys rode with Indians
near our small town of Buzzard’s Bend.

Not long after the Civil War,
when it was a hot mining claim,
the...

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It was a baren world
We fled without a feather of pride
After the storm was gone
Escaping the aftermath to hide
What in you was going on
I remember the fury of the night
And you coming, coming, coming
But never...

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...But Mains just shrugged, then said, “Let’s go.”
offered the wrists to his bandittos.
Two of them led the man away,
Diaz fumed more watching him go.

Denied the chance to see him beg,
denied the chance to drink his...

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Nakuja
Kwa wito, NINAENDELEA – I COME I PRAISE--

I come
To the calling
I stand at this gathering
I stand
At my calling
With lifted hands—praising
I praise to the All Father
My Father-God
I come to the calling
To the calling of my Lord
I...

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Buried in an avalanche you
might see on "Hoarders buried alive"
back and foreground
white sheet with limited pay per view,
nonetheless sky scraping heap

(Uriah not kid) nsync with a 'U'-
shaped tube anchored securely thru
solid wood - sporting
towering, leaning,...

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The smile of a woman in the spring is prettier
Than the dancing glow of the yellow tulips of the pond
As said the other: her face is embellished and polished
With honey syrup. She really has a...

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The emotion of your call came over me and I can't stay impassible 
this silent keyboard which I can get wonderful sound
my fingers are moving, and can not resist petting and be sensible
the first notes...

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 "The streams are my veins." 

Rivers, rather than flowing around us, deliver vitality to every cell and fiber in the body. They are the life-giving arteries and veins of the earth. By Poet


Sarcastic, keen...

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Captains Log Star date 8391.1,

I now face a terrible dilemma.  After the bloodiest of battles with a crew from 
another dimension, a crew of doppelgangers, in essence a crew of ourselves, we 
have finally...

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Buddgelin Bey – Translation of Rex Marshall’s « Buddgelin Bey » by T. Wignesan

(Rex Marshall, b. July 16, 1943 at Grafton, belongs to the aboriginal tribe, Thungutti/Gumbaingeri of the Baryulgil
Reserve in New South Wales. He...

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(Sing along to tune "Jonah Man Jazz")

The city of Bongwater was a city of sin, 
An epic journey of the man who did the bins,
All that binning at 5am made a terrible din,
Monday mornings in...

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I was my hands of it all, Translation of Pierre Emmanuel’s Je m’en lave les mains by T. Wignesan


And what could we have done in his place
Who in this century would dare to judge him
he...

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