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 lever tôt,
Et c’est pareil pour tout dans la vie,
Si vous ne faites pas le premier pas, vous n’existez pas.
Torrero sans l’aide de Picador
Such artful courage sans pareil :
Gored in the loins
No need to shout who Bad Guys stand for
Mean lances of the Picador slay
Split Toro groins
Speak not of Bad Guys in the same breath
As of fighting bulls and bull-fighters :
Can courage die
Seek not Bad Guys’ ultimate death
Shakespeare says they ever die blighters :
Let cowards lie
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
They've allotted me three kings...
All with equal amounts of endearment
Offered to me on a baited line
With trembling sticky fingers.
It is all but impossible for me to write of
The fortitude's of each of them.
Or of how they slithered about
Simultaneously through the whetted night
Committing treachery against my mother,
Every one of them, obliviously.
Of how they stretched and skewed
The sentiments of my chambers,
My bellows.
Beseeching me,
Come swallow...
Drink in the nectars,
The sans pareil of sweet.
Come thrush...
With quick and jaunty flight.
Beating in the night with hots
Of red and white.
Come quick albatross...
Fast to my body
With your obliterating bite.
Waning away,
Your five fingered blight.
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