ARTISAN OF WORDS


I am an artisan of words
Which I sculpt, chisel and fashion the way I can;
I am a creator of worlds;
I pour my emotion into the poems I write.
I breathe life into them, blow them skywards
And finish them only when they sound right.

These remnants of thought without reason
Will remain on pages season after season
Long after I'm gone; when my task is done
The love, the longing, the pain
Will be evoked then by somebody else
Who in turn will remember and write again
To create another slow soft song
That people can read and draw into their hearts
Then pillowed by words, cushioned by dreams
My poems will ride high the moonbeams.



Copyright: Rani Turton 2007


Friday, December 18, 2009

Jerome Iber


Jerome Iber


A MON FILS DISPARU


Sur sa guitare, il m'avait composé
Une chanson qu'il aimait me chanter
On s'amusait à notre façon
Lui à la guitare, moi à l'accordéon
La java bleue, le petit bal du samedi soir
Faisaient partie de notre répertoire
Il jouait, il chantait
Et tout Auxerre l'applaudissait

Une nuit le destin l’a surpris
Pour toujours il s'est endormi
Au matin quand la police le retrouve
J'aurais voulu qu'il y soit un petit mot pour moi.


REFRAIN

Pardonne moi, maman je t'aime
Mais je dois partir
Maman, ne pleure pas
On se retrouvera

2 COUPLETS

Il en a fait danser, avec son flamenco
Des gitans et même des gadjos
Aujourd'hui j'ai mal
Mais sa voix est toujours là
Il me reste son CD
Sur lequel il aimait me chanter


REFRAIN

Pardonne-moi maman, je t'aime
Continue de jouer continue de chanter
Ne pleure pas maman
Un jour viendra
On se retrouvera
...

Copyright: JACQUELINE





To My Deceased Son

On his guitar he had composd for me
A song he liked me to sing
We played around in our own way
Him his guitar and me with my accordion
The java blue and the Saturday Night ball
Was part of our repertory
He played, he sang
And the whole of Auxerre applauded.

One night suprised by destiny
He went to sleep forever
When the police found him in the morning
I would have liked a little word for me.

REFRAIN:

Pardon me, mother, I  love you
But I have to go
Mother, don't cry
We'll meet again

With his flaemenco he made the gadjos dance
And even the gypsies
Today I'm in pain
But  his voice is always here
I still have his Cd
On which he used to love to sing

Refrain

Forgive me, mother, I love you
Carry on playing and singing
Don't cry, mother
The day will come
We'll meet again.

Copyright: Jacqueline

1 comment:

nothingprofound said...

Truly moving. Poignant and sad.