Franck Garot

Pantuns

Franck Garot — 2016-08-19T17:17:13Z

The train is traveling at high speed
Driving across the sleeping fields.
My sadness will flow far away;
And my verses will sing my friends

Outside on the snowy bench,
The magpie has left a track
Inside on my naked back,
My love ended her embrace.

So where is going the leaf, carried
Here and beyond, by the evil wind
So where is going my poor mind bewitched
By you by him? I loved you both. Indeed.

The snow is falling down in Bucharest
And down on the coffin of the poet.
My sorrow probes what remains, all the rest
After mourning: his words will celebrate.

Best effort on the rhymes.
Thanks to Mariela for her review.

Five haiku

Franck Garot — 2014-10-26T19:08:34Z

I sometimes write haiku directly in English, without translation from French. This is quite rare and I don't really know why this happens. But it happened at least five times. Please find below a set of haiku. The first two ones from my last trip to London and the three other ones were written a while ago in Paris.

London eye
as blue as me
cries down the river

the sleeping castle
is dreaming of you
beneath the electric stars

what a stormwind!
807 butterflies
in my stomach

undressed and frozen
new homeless in the street
Xmas tree

on the hill
your eyes light up
the city

Picture and geolocation for the first haiku.

The Velvet t-shirt

Franck Garot — 2013-11-08T17:30:29Z

What will become
of my Velvet t-shirt
gone threadbare
the banana marred
by the swipe
of an iron
what will become
of my Velvet t-shirt
when I grow old
hard of hearing
and hard to bear
what will become
of my Velvet t-shirt
I'll use it as a rag
to chase the dust
from my illusions

Translation: Rita Smith-Lemaire