words made pretty by dedication, slant of hand and careful dictation
a flower of lines drawn with skill, curving the twist of fluff and frill
extract each single you i miss, I want nothing more than this
but each grows more short, now in need of a line plus fort*
what counts six just one, more than I could have done
can flowers finally last, can words color our past
punctuation is close,so I'm switching to prose
I will not be afraid of what lies ahead. à la passé, j'ai dit c'est ça. je ne peux pas changer elle donc je reste et crois. de temps en temps, mon mots est française mais mon coeur est vrai...vrai à la pensée de toi*. My heart is true...true to the thought of you.
*stronger
* to the past, I said things are as they are. I cannot change it so I remain and believe. from time to time my words are french but my heart is true...true to the thought of you.
Showing posts with label French. Show all posts
Showing posts with label French. Show all posts
Monday, March 31
Wednesday, February 6
"Que déjà le monde qui l'entourait n'avait plus aucune importance et que chaque nouvelle journée était comme un poids impossible à soulever. Alors, elle pleurait. Non pas qu'elle fût triste, mais pour faire passer tout ça. Les larmes, ce liquide finalement, l'aident à digérer sa caillasse et lui permettaient de respirer à nouveau"-- Ensemble, c'est tout by Anna Gavalda
That already the world which surrounded her did not have importance at all and that each new day was like a impossible weight to lift. So, she cried. No, not that she was sad, but to pass it all away. These tears, this final liquid, helped her to process her ruin and permitted her to breath anew. -- Together, this is all by Anna Gavalda
I was given this book for christmas by one of my colleagues. As you can see, the writing is beautiful but incredibly sad.
That already the world which surrounded her did not have importance at all and that each new day was like a impossible weight to lift. So, she cried. No, not that she was sad, but to pass it all away. These tears, this final liquid, helped her to process her ruin and permitted her to breath anew. -- Together, this is all by Anna Gavalda
I was given this book for christmas by one of my colleagues. As you can see, the writing is beautiful but incredibly sad.
Friday, January 18
Pour Me Faire une Beauté ou Pour une Cigarette
(Translation of the Beautiful Carla Bruni)
Quand j'aurai tout compris, tout vécu d'ici-bas,
Quand je serai si vieille, que je ne voudrai plus de moi,
Quand la peau de ma vie sera creusée de routes,
Et de traces et de peines, et de rires et de doutes,
Alors je demanderai juste encore une minute...
When I have understood everything, all of life from now to then
When I will be so old that i won't want anymore of myself
When the skin of my life is cut into routes*
of shadows and sadness, of laughs and doubts,
Then I will ask for just one more minute
Quand il n'y aura plus rien qui chavire et qui blesse,
Et quand même les chagrins auront l'air d'une caresse,
Quand je verrai ma mort juste au pied de mon lit,
Que je la verrai sourire de ma si petite vie,
Je lui dirai "écoute ! Laisse-moi juste une minute..."
When there is nothing anymore which capsizes and which wounds,
and when even the sadness seems to be a caress,
When I see my death at the foot of my bed
I will see it smiling at my so little life,
I will say to him, "Listen! Let me have just one minute..."
Juste encore minute, juste encore minute,
Pour me faire une beauté ou pour une cigarette,
Juste encore minute, juste encore minute,
Pour un dernier frisson, ou pour un dernier geste,
Juste encore minute, juste encore minute,
Pour ranger les souvenirs avant le grand hiver,
Juste encore une minute... sans motif et sans but.
Just another minute, just another minute,
for me to do something beautiful or for one cigarette,*
Just another minute, just another minute,
for a last shudder, or for a last gesture,
just another minute, just another minute,
for rearranging the memories before the great winter,
just another minute...without motive and without aim
Puisque ma vie n'est rien, alors je la veux toute.
Tout entière, tout à fait et dans toutes ses déroutes,
Puisque ma vie n'est rien, alors j'en redemande,
Je veux qu'on m'en rajoute,
Soixante petites secondes pour ma dernière minute.
Since my life is nothing, therefore i want it all
Wholly complete, utterly, with all of its twists and turns*
Since my life is nothing, therefore I ask it again,
I want this one added to me:
Sixty little seconds for my last minute
Tic tac tic tac tic tac
--Le Dernière Minute by Carla Bruni
*I had to take editor's liberties with some of the translating. For this very reason, I have been having more and more trouble reading the bible. having realized the great problem in translating texts and still capturing the essence of the words. I still believe in the Bible but I find it hard to follow the thinking of the southern baptists and other 'biblical christians' who believe in the infallability of a word that is thousands of years old and has been translated and rewritten by thousands more.
(Translation of the Beautiful Carla Bruni)
Quand j'aurai tout compris, tout vécu d'ici-bas,
Quand je serai si vieille, que je ne voudrai plus de moi,
Quand la peau de ma vie sera creusée de routes,
Et de traces et de peines, et de rires et de doutes,
Alors je demanderai juste encore une minute...
When I have understood everything, all of life from now to then
When I will be so old that i won't want anymore of myself
When the skin of my life is cut into routes*
of shadows and sadness, of laughs and doubts,
Then I will ask for just one more minute
Quand il n'y aura plus rien qui chavire et qui blesse,
Et quand même les chagrins auront l'air d'une caresse,
Quand je verrai ma mort juste au pied de mon lit,
Que je la verrai sourire de ma si petite vie,
Je lui dirai "écoute ! Laisse-moi juste une minute..."
When there is nothing anymore which capsizes and which wounds,
and when even the sadness seems to be a caress,
When I see my death at the foot of my bed
I will see it smiling at my so little life,
I will say to him, "Listen! Let me have just one minute..."
Juste encore minute, juste encore minute,
Pour me faire une beauté ou pour une cigarette,
Juste encore minute, juste encore minute,
Pour un dernier frisson, ou pour un dernier geste,
Juste encore minute, juste encore minute,
Pour ranger les souvenirs avant le grand hiver,
Juste encore une minute... sans motif et sans but.
Just another minute, just another minute,
for me to do something beautiful or for one cigarette,*
Just another minute, just another minute,
for a last shudder, or for a last gesture,
just another minute, just another minute,
for rearranging the memories before the great winter,
just another minute...without motive and without aim
Puisque ma vie n'est rien, alors je la veux toute.
Tout entière, tout à fait et dans toutes ses déroutes,
Puisque ma vie n'est rien, alors j'en redemande,
Je veux qu'on m'en rajoute,
Soixante petites secondes pour ma dernière minute.
Since my life is nothing, therefore i want it all
Wholly complete, utterly, with all of its twists and turns*
Since my life is nothing, therefore I ask it again,
I want this one added to me:
Sixty little seconds for my last minute
Tic tac tic tac tic tac
--Le Dernière Minute by Carla Bruni
*I had to take editor's liberties with some of the translating. For this very reason, I have been having more and more trouble reading the bible. having realized the great problem in translating texts and still capturing the essence of the words. I still believe in the Bible but I find it hard to follow the thinking of the southern baptists and other 'biblical christians' who believe in the infallability of a word that is thousands of years old and has been translated and rewritten by thousands more.
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