Every means of communication what is call languages are mysteries
I am a foreigner in an insulated capsule
I taste. I explore. I take samples to try and break loneliness
I'm learning. Maybe, one day, I will be truely able to write and talk.

samedi 16 janvier 2010


Je me dois de préciser que j'ai trouvé les trois derniers auteurs dans

par E. KATZ et C. HAYE

Maison de la poésie Rhône Alpes


la sélection de ces trois poèmes est un choix personnel et donc arbitraire fondé sur mes goûts, mon caractère, mes origines, mon humeur du moment etc etc

Je m'en excuse car beaucoup sont des oeuvres de grandes qualités
mais ce sont ces trois là qui m'ont instantanément bouleversée en première lecture Il m'a donc paru indispensable de les conserver sur My Foreign Swamp

Que leurs auteurs respectifs trouvent ici l'expression de mon admiration et de mes sincères remerciements pour avoir su "dire" et "communiquer".


Pour ceux et celles que l'anglais rebuterait, l'édition est bilingue et les traductions de qualité même si personnellement, j'estime qu'une poésie doit être lue telle qu'elle a été écrite

samedi 9 janvier 2010

His speed and strength (Alicia OSTRIKER)

His speed and strength, which is the strength of ten
years, races me home from the pool.
First I am ahead. Nike, on my bicycle,
no hands, and the Times crossword tucked in my rack,
then he is ahead, the Green Hornet,
buzzing up Witherspoon,
flashing around the corner to Nassau Street.

At noon sharp he demonstrated his neat
one-and-a-half flips off the board :
Oh, brave. Did you see me, he wanted to know.
And I doing my backstroke laps was Juno
Oceanus, then for a while I watched some black
and white boys wrestling and joking, teammates, wet
plums and peaches touching each other as if

it is not necessary to make hate,
as if Whitman was right and there is no death,
A big wind at our backs, it is lovely, the maple boughs
ride up and down like ships. Do you mind
if I take off, he says. I'll catch you later,
see you, I shout and wave, as he peels
away, pedalling hard, rocket and pilot.


jeudi 7 janvier 2010


On the Museum of Natural History’s 4th floor
I greeted my old friend :
“Hey, T. Rex ! Long time, no see !”
My buddy flashed his killer teeth :
“Over two years, E. Katz,
I missed you.”

Surprised, I asked, “You missed me ?
I didn’t know dinosaurs had emotions.
Rexy, did you know love ?”

Rexy sighed ; “I knew love
..... not as humans can
but as humans do :
….. love of self
….. and love of finding something weaker
…... ….. to pounce upon.

E. Katz, can your species be saved
….. by love’s possibilities ?

“Rexy” I answered, “you haven’t lost
your ability
to ask the tough question.
Let me ask you something we humans
have been curious about for centuries.
How did you die ?”

“I don’t know.
One day I looked around
And I wasn’t there.”

Eliot KATZ