French Poetry

A few years ago I had a French tutor who made me write poetry and after a few tries I was able to produce two poems he actually seemed to like. He called them “sympa.” That’s good enough for me to post them here. It’s not Baudelaire or anything, but it was the best I could do back then.

The first assignment was to write something about an everyday object, the second was to have something to do with Plato’s allegory of the cave for reasons I won’t go into here. The first one has the benefit of accommodating a number of nasty interpretations. The second is about a bee that wanders into the cave.

Conversation avec une tasse de café

Une tasse, un peu tachée, inutile sans l’eau noir.
Sans aucun intérêt, à son côté me voir.
Il me dit:”Hé Ady, qu’est-ce qu’on fait maintenant”?
“Il n’y a plus rien à boire, j’y vais dans un instant”.
“J’aimerais que tu restes, tu ne dois pas partir.
Un autre café noir, trouves quelque chose à dire”.
“J’ai rien de plus à dire, ma petite tasse bidon.
J’ai bu ton offre amer, j’ai mangé le bonbon”.

Une abeille curieuse

Après cent ans chaîné, avec les ombres vidé,
Une abeille curieuse, par je ne sais quoi guidé,
A se laissé passer et a volé à nous.
Elle a un corps et plus: Nous nous retrouvons fous!
Car nous sommes libérés par cette petite abeille.
Et toujours enchaîné nous voyons le soleil.
Malheuresement l’abeille a oublié les clés.
Liberté à penser, c’est bien un truc fermé.

2 Responses to “French Poetry”

  1. 1 zumpoems February 12, 2012 at 00:35

    I used to write short stories in French, so can relate to this. French is such a great language and for me, these poems seem like they were written with a late 19th century French country-side frame of mind. Thanks for posting!

  2. 2 nonvisedvoce February 12, 2012 at 01:00

    Thanks for the comment. They are alexandrines, because we thought it best for language learning purposes to have a fairly solid old-fashioned form.

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