photo: all those wrinkles that we find so beautiful in the sand, formed by the winds, the rains, the storms, is it not the same with the face? Wharariki
The trembling on the face, day after day,
of pains, anxieties,
of what has meaning, and what hasn’t
even dreams find a place there, withered, over time, and so what?
For perplexed we will remain and « where is the world going »?
Something to chat about at tea time.
photo : sables dansants, pupu springs, Golden Bay, ou l’on pourrait dire les mots dansants, les images dansantes, inspirant!
Entre l’éclatement et la lumière,
l’aveuglement du soir
aspirée dans l’écho de l’avenir
je reçois les mots lorsqu’ils se présentent
entre les infos du matin
et la couleurs du soir
photo: a glorious morning in Pohara, the nature invites itself into my mind
The day opens like a pale book
which turns its pages
in the heat of the path.
A suggestion, perhaps,
the wind is thinking in my head.
Summer like a shimmer on the waves
The certainty that the world is older than anxiety
The tide draws a poem at my feet
The truth of the body in the morning sun
photo: path leading to Wharariki Beach, Golden Bay
We would live there
in the hollow of the valley
to protect ourselves from the world
we would go out sometimes
to visit the solitary tree
upright like wisdom
in sunshine and in rain
we would read its inclinations in its leaves
we would sense life beneath the bark
we would say thank you, though we did not know to whom
photo: sentier qui mène à la plage de Wharariki, Golden Bay
On habiterait là
dans le creux de ce vallon
pour se protéger du monde
on en sortirait lorsqu’on voudrait
visiter l’arbre solitaire
droit comme la sagesse
dans le soleil et dans la pluie
on lirait dans ses feuilles ses penchants
on devinerait la vie sous l’écorce
on dirait merci, mais on ne savait pas à qui
