dVerse is giving us free rein to write in a foreign language. I wrote this poem early on in my French studies, as a commentary on an old photograph, in the style of Philippe Labro, in his Poème sur la Vie, situated in the future, where the world is greatly changed.
Qui a créé ce jardin?
Elle a dû aimer le plein air
Qui a planté toutes ces fleurs ?
Est-ce qu’elles poussaient bien pour elle ?
Y avait-il des enfants qui jouaient
Parmi ces bordures épatantes ?
J’aurais bien aimé sentir cette fleur,
Apprécier sa glorieuse couleur.
Qui a tondu toute cette herbe ?
La photo montre qu’elle était superbe.
Qui a joué sur la balançoire ?
Qui a couru dans cette verdure ?
Avec quelle joie rentrait-on le soir
après une journée ensoleillée ?
Est-ce qu’il y avait du soleil
et des beaux jours dans le passé ?
*****************
Who created this garden?
She must have loved being outside.
Who planted all these flowers?
They must have grown well for her.
Were there children,
playing among these splendid borders?
I would love to have smelled that flower,
appreciated its glorious colour.
Who mowed these lawns?
The photo shows that they were superb.
Who played on this swing?
Who ran on this verdure?
With what joy did they go in at night
after a sunny day?
Did they have sun
and lovely days in the past?
I write quite a lot of (bad) French poetry now, and I will leave you with a little Haiga which needs no translation


“Did they have sun and lovely days in the past?” Love that line. It often strikes me as improbable that people actually lived before.
Ah, lovely! I knew you would do a great job with this. k.
gardens are wonderful, and there is joy or life in rain =)
You might think it needs no translation but some of us have forgotten our schoolgirl French by now…
In Paris it rains everywhere, even on Notre Dame
It rains on us as well, soaked to the soul.
Pretty!
Thanks
Viv, this is beautiful in both languages ~ what a talent you have …
Had to laugh when I saw Charles Trenet mentioned… always loved “Beyond the Sea,” and when I finally heard him sing his own “La Mer,” I HATED it! Sounded like a wartime march!
At any rate, this was lovely. The rhyming in French, great – and the direction translation, rather than trying to force rhyme in English, was charming. Really liked this, Viv. And now for your clase en espanol (but I cannot get WP to do tildes, et al.) Amy
http://sharplittlepencil.com/2013/01/19/san-juan-por-la-noche/
Oh I really like this. The flow of the french is wonderful. Just love French poetry so much. Thanks for sharing with us, and great photograph as well.
Bravo! Je trouve que vous etes aussi douee en francais qu’en anglais quand vous ecrivez de la poesie. J’en suis jalouse de votre talent.:)
Pas besoin de jalousie – votre reponse est impeccable! (WP won’t let me use accents in a reply)
Merci!
…a gentle tone with a deep ponderings…the style of your delivery in this particular work reminded me of the ‘Ripe Plums’ by Confucius… Wonderful to read…smiles…
Beautiful, Viv. You are so fortunate to be able to speak two languages well.
The garden poem with all its questions leaves me asking more: Where are they now? Thanks for your comments, corrections,Viv. I will leave it as is for now and work with it after the prompt is closed. I’d also try to make the translation into a poem of its own.
I don’t think I know how to find the attachment. By the way, I love the word, tremper!
Lots of beautiful questions… sounds so good in French.
it’s just amazing how much prettier everything sounds in french
bichon frise
breathing in the scent of the garden
I knew you can write in French ~ Smiles ~ This must have been a lovingly tended garden ~
Grace
Loved your poem Viv, although you’d have winced to hear me mangling the French version!
smiles..very cool perspective of the notre dame shot.. she’s a beauty, isn’t she..? smiles…cool on the french poem as well..enjoyed it much…gardens have their own stories to tell..
smiles….very cool write…the appreciation of the garden…ther eis something about putting your hand to the earth…esp when it responds…smiles…i like that your thoughts wander to if children once ran in its borders…