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| photo: Atget |
Toi que j'entends courir dans les escaliers de la maison
Et qui me caches ton visage et même le reste du corps,
Lorsque je me montre à la rampe,
N'es-tu pas mon enfance qui fréquente les lieux
de ma préférence,
Toi qui t'éloignes difficilement de ton ancien locataire.
Je te devine à ta façon pour ainsi dire invisible
De rôder autour de moi lorsque nul ne nous regarde
Et de t'enfuir comme quelqu'un qu'on ne doit pas voir avec un autre.
Fort bien, je ne dirai pas que j'ai pu te reconnaître,
Mais garde aussi notre secret, rumeur cent fois familière
De petits pas anciens dans les escaliers d'à présent.
It's you I hear running in the stairways of the house,
Hiding your face and even the rest of your body
Whenever I appear at the banister.
Are you not my childhood wandering through my favorite places,
You who never liked straying from your former lodger?
I can guess it's you by your so to speak invisible way
Of hovering around me when no one is watching us,
Then running off like someone that mustn't be seen with another.
Very well, I won't say that I was able to recognize you,
But keep our secret then, patter one hundred times familiar,
Small steps of old in the stairways of the present.
Jules Supervielle
merci pour ces deux derniers billets qui font rever! tant de beaute a contempler.........
ReplyDeletexoxo
I haven't seen a more sensitive or beneficial alliance of poetry and imagery in blogging, and I have kept an eye open. Every moment I wish to complement the poem for its wit, I find its imprint in the photograph. That said, I'd like to compliment the poem, for what I feel is the poet's capability of speaking for both genders, which to me is the most enviable gift of perception.
ReplyDeleteThis is a beautiful gift of the imagination.
With your poet's sensibility, a very fine compliment, Laurent.
ReplyDeleteBeatifully written dahhling.. loved the image.
ReplyDeleteI cite for you a child in the stair today. Who can doubt the fertile effect of reading here.
ReplyDelete