Poésies et proses en anglais.

SUNDAY MORNING

Nostalgy, you said ?

A barge on the Rhone-Rhine canal,

                beating the milky-green waters.

It foats away, purring quiet

                towards Maison-Dieu, Saint-Jean-de-Losne.

And I’m walking in the autumn ;

Little sun, little clouds, quarter past teen.

Bright blue of the sky.

Loud groans from a crowd of crows.

What a prayer, nature!

With no bells, no collection, no sermon.

God is not fond of bluff and the flossy.

Insence shall even make Him sick…

He may not agree

                with what we did wich the things,

                the beautiful things,

                his own things,

                his beautyful own thinks for man.

They were beautiful, pure and suffixent

-at the very beginning-

The things of God for man.

What did he with them

                the man

Instead of taking them as they were?

He ameliorated them

                yes

                a-me-lio-ra-ted…

What a disaster since!

Yes, God may feel sick with insense.

He might scratch His halo,

                swearing “what the hell did they do?”

He could quote Georges Brassens:

“I do fear that the end

of the world will be sad!”

He could even quote Cavanna:

“Beauty?

It is the way things should to be!”

Showed by God to man

Beauty came from the earth

                for man.

He has spoiled this beauty,

So he shall go back to the earth,

The man,

To find beauty again,

-the final beauty-

And that one, still more beautiful…

Samerey, Côte d’Or, Autumn 1987

Translation: Laure L’Excellent, 2007.

 Fleur, en joue !” – 2009 – ISBN 978-2-9516161-8-9 – JePublie (version papier)

& e-book Numilog.com (10€)

THE PASSER-BY

For a long time I asked myself: but why, in fact, is Man always led to regret the Past – even it if that Past was burdened with lesser or greater troubles? When we observe our memories, it seems to us that no matter which time past was better than the one we live today. Is it immaturity? Is it, at worst, the habit of the dog going back to inspect its vomit? In parallel, spiritual leaders – spiritual leaders, as our era is brimming over with protestations to use that the Past is over, that we have nothing more to do with it, that even thinking about it is plain morbid. They praise the Present to the skies, swear only by the instant we are living here and now. So that men who begin to relect upon the matter find themselves perplexed, even more dumbfounded than before stating their meditation è to the point of wanting to be already tomorrow to, no longer have to bother themselves with today…Long live the spiritual leaders of the year 2008!

I realize that all those leaders thinking bad things on behalf of other have not notice the couple of lines following: 

I – Time is not circular, is not sphere, not is it walled in; it is just one line without any transition, without any seam, without any interruption between the Past, the Present and the Future. I propose, to illustrate this conviction, the image of the walker along the canal. I am that walker. I pass by lock gate 32; on my left the canal holds back water that is limpid and stagnant, except during the movement of the locks. This water at lock 33 is the same water as at lock 32. II still walk on. Arrived between lock 33 and lock 34, I look at the water on my left. The canal still holds back the same limpid, stagnant water, except during the movement of the locks. The water is just the same. The water stays. It’s just me who passes by…Time is thus this canal – immovable, eternal – and I am passing by Time. It is not Time that passes by, but me passing through Time. Ah! It’s marvelous: what a relief! I will no longer rack my brains, wanting rashly to cogitate upon a false problem. If therefore Time is linear without any transition, without any seam; what forbids me – which so-called leader forbids me – to regret the moment when I was by lock 32 or between locks 33 and 34? And this question introduces the second point of my reflection: if therefore, the water at lock 32 is the same as that at lock 33 and the same as that encountered between locks 33 and 34, why regret passing by lock 32?

II – Quite simply because, in fact, I do not regret the water of lock 32 – since it is the same water I encounter now, continuing my walk along the canal – but it is the state of mind in which I was, passing by that lock 32…We regret such a moment in memory of the state of mind in which we were. We were confident, curious about what we called “The Future”, we were full of projects, grand, beautiful ideas. We were new, innocent like children spoken of by Iéshoua’ in his scripture. We never in fact regret Time past, but what we were at that moment. It is not Time that regret, but us that we regret – such as we were at one or other phase of our life. We say we regret “The Past” for we regret what we were. We want to escape what we have become. We have lost sight of ourselves, at one other stage along the way, and we would so much like to find ourselves again! Well, since Time is linear and does not make a difference between Past, Present and Future, why condemn what we call “past” and forbid ourselves to envisage what we call “future”? >A proof that Time is linear: clairvoyants, mediums who can see what the past of a person consulting them and what will be that person’s future… Past, Present and Future  are like an artery running the length of the body: the blood is the same in the toes as in brain, as in the stomach. So why blame myself if I want to dream about the phases of Life I encountered ten, twenty or thirty years ago? Why let myself be upset if I want to eat the same dishes, listen to the same music, read the same books as during my adolescence? And, in fact, who can be worried by this? It only worries those who have taught us that Time passes, that there is a Past, a Present and a Future. It worries above all those who are paid to teach this philosophy – about all those who are paid to teach it, since they live off it.

Fortunately, Science – and globally all the unsuspected abilities of Man - offer us the means, from what we call “present” to look into what we call “future”. Inventions allow us to listen to singers passed into the next dimension a long time ago. Yesterday evening, I was listening to Jim Morrison (The Doors). This evening I am listening to Tim Buckley, what he was singing in 1966 and 1967 and that I heard for the first time in 1973. I have two CDs of interviews with Georges Simenon. We are in 2008 and I hear the voice of Simenon taped some decades ago. And above all, above all – as noted previously real mediums and real clairvoyants warn us about what is going to happen to us. But I have to underline, to insist heavily on this: “real” mediums, “real” clairvoyants. And faced with genuine clairvoyance, what is the free will of Man? I asked this question of the real clairvoyant, the real medium I met in 1991: Daniel Sanner, from Quetigny in Côte d’Or. He gave me the following reply. “Free will? You take the TGV  to go from   Dijon to Paris  (it’s a TGV that does not stopbetween Dijon and Paris). During the journey, you can go to the toilet, you can go to the bar, you can go sit in another car if there are free seats, but you are taking the TGV to go from Dijon to Paris. You cannot get off the moving train: you are taking the TGV to go from Dijon to Paris!”…

Man is a passer-by a long Time that has neither beginning nor end. Time does no pass by. It is Eternity. Man passes by Time, evolves incessantly and changes dimension. So therefore neither Time nor Man has an end…

Translation : Laure L’Excellent. - Trad’services.com - 31, Rte de Gigny – F-21200 Beaune (France)

laure.beer@wanadoo.fr

WITHOUT LABEL…

“Without label and without border” ; my blazon is the passport for freedom, the conscience, the independence, and total fraternity for the profit of the men of all the continents. I am free in God, free of all the mercenaries who imprison God. “Without label and without border”, is also a quality which makes that I am an enigmatic man…!

 ___________

I DISAVOW TO REAPPEAR  

I disavow to reappear.
The god of deaths died.
The god of dead the god of deaths died.
I disavow to reappear.
The incense feels sperm.
It is The Resurrection.
I disavow the god of deaths
To live with the god of life.

___________

WHO AM I?

Without border.
Without labels.
Enigmatic.
Communicative.
Destructor for the reconstructions.
With a vertiginous continuation in the ideas.
Indestructible.
In love with the true women worthy of the name.
In love with forests, the channel, the pond, snow.
Intuitive.
A little medium.
Founder of the Circle of the Architects of the New World.
Former associative editor.
Bull, ascending Scorpion.
Gnostic believer.
And, of course, author (lazy).
I listen to you!

___________

Stopped  travel. . .

Hello Layla

Close to the bottom of the world!

Hello Layla

Close to the bottom of the wawes!

Hello Layla

Close to the bottom of the waters!

Hello Layla

Close to the bottom of the light!

Hello Layla

Close to the bottom of the cloud!

Hello Layla

Close to the bottom of the page!

Hello Layla

Close to the bottom of the word!

Hello Layla

Close to the bottom of the smile!

Hello Layla

Close to the bottom of the eyes! 

Hello Layla

Close to the bottom of the sigh!

Hello Layla

Close to the bottom of the bodice!

But now I stop the poem;

Yes, I do not have a passport

to continue this voyage.

Or: diplomatic incident!

__________

SEEK THE WOMAN!

Seek the woman!

But seek the woman!

I am a false loner.

Seek the woman!

But seek the woman!

The other day Christine;

and yesterday Katia;

and this morning Ana-Hermosa.

Seek the woman!

But seek the woman!

And you will find me…

"Coeur sans Frontière" - www.nicolas-sylvain.jimdo.com

WORDS WITHOUT BORDER

Since spring 2006, and by invitation of his president Teresinka Pereira, I am member of the IWA. This great lady of the international humanistic literature has all my affectionate regard and my recognition. In this first day of the summer 2014, I again use my literary pseudonym “Nicolas SYLVAIN”, created in 1977. In order to confirm my interest for the existentialism of Jean-Paul Sartre. And to affirm, again, my motto :  “without label and border”. I received from IWA, in 2006, the distinction of the best short story of year, for: “Les Entrailles de Gisors”.

 Albert-Marie Guye, alias Nicolas Sylvain

IWA was founded in 1978, and is still changing. The goal of IWA is to promote understanding, friendship and literature/art exchange in the five continents. We are concerned about war, ozon and soil depletion, pollution, racism, sexism, human rights violation, homelessness, AIDS.

We support the rights and freedoms in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights for all people, everywhere. We value: respect for and comprehension of all cultures and ethnic traditions; freedom of speech and diversity within the bounds of a just world. More fundamental that freedom of speech and diversity we value the rejection of racism, sexism, tribalism and ageism. We promote creative and critical think in literature and art. We defend reason, science, freedom of inquiry, and ethical alternative. IWA recognize the value and pay homage to great creators who are anonymous.

The International Writers and Artists Association has the custom to reward great writers and artists of the world. IWA has many distinguished members as Marquis K. Vella Harber, SOSJ Gran Prioe International and Head of the Executive of the Supreme Council of the Sov. Order of Saint John of Jerusalem (Malta); Prince Waldemar Baroni Santos (Brasil), Don Ciro Punzo, Prince of Cnosso and Manzanille Italy); Lord Viktor Busà, President of the International states Parliament for Safety and Peace; Prince Dom Duarte Nuno João Pio de Orleães e Bragança, of Portugal; Dr. Denis Kelleher Muhilly, President of the American International University; Dr. Fernando Henrique Cardoso, former President of Brasil (1994-2002), Dr. Aécio Neves, (Governor of Minas Gerais), and famous writers as Frei Betto (Brazil), Noam Chomsky, Toni Morrison, Nobel Prize in Literature, and Pete Seeger (USA), Isabel Allende (Chilie), Rigoberta Menchú (Peace Nobel Prie in 92, Guatemala), Fidel Castro (Cuba).  Among the immortas: Marcel Marceau (France), Carlos Drummond de Andreade (Brazil), Alberto Moravia (Italy), Ella Fitzgerald (USA), Eugene Ionescu (Romania), Jorge Guillén and Francisco Garcia Pavón (Spain), Juan Carlos María Onetti (Uruguay), Augusto Roa Bastos (Paraguay); Juan Rulfo (Mexico), Ernesto Sáto, Julio Cortázar and Manuel Puig (Argentina), Marguerite Duras (France), Melina Merkuri (Greece) and many others, about 1640 associates in 137 countries, in five continents of the world.

Teresinka Pereira, President

Ambassador at Large of the International States Parliament for Safety and Peace,

Member of the American Civil Liberties Union,

Member of the Council for Secular Humanism,

Member of the United Nations Assoc. USA and the Business  Council for the United Nations.

http://internationalartistwrittersassociaiton.blogspot.com/

ORIGIN

I touched a furrow,

          brown of plowed ground.

It was soft and fresh

          very velvety too.

O! Plowed dear furrow,

          furrow from which I come,

Ad furrow on which, yes,

          yes, I will pass away.

I prepared my funeral,

          I gave my directions:

My ashes will be thrown

          in a wood, a forest,

          in a field like this one,

Near Saint-Jean-de-Losne,

Near Saint-Symphorien,

Close to Maison-Dieu,

And very near the Saône,

Or in my forest called Pochon.

If there is a hitch           

any wood will be appropriate,

Elsewhere.

Any field will be appropriate,

Elsewhere.

Far from Saint-Jean-de-Losne,

          and far from Maison-Dieu.

I touched a furrow

          brown of plowed ground.

Furrow from where I come.

February 1987

(“Fleur, en joue !” – JePublie & Numilog.com)  Juin 2009

___________

USEFUL BELIEF

I Believe in the tree,

       all alone or with other trees.

I do not like to see cut tree

 Wich bleed with death,

       invisible blood,

And always in silence.

To meet the tree,

To rest me from the man.

The so noisy man

       not aways very useful…

The dead of a tree,

       can be source of heat.

A dead tree, as for it,

Can be reborn in a piece of furniture,

Or a bed.

One can also make it die by

       making in be used as a coffin

       for the skin of the man.

Hey! But this is wasting:

Why not incinerate

       the skin of the useless man

And preserve the wood of the tree

       to get heat to the living?

I believe in the tree

And I need its force.

To plant a tree is an act of life,

       usefull amongst all the acts of life.

I believe in the tree

       since I believe

In what is seen,

       in what can be touched

And in what keeps being useful

Even once cut down,

       especially once cut down.

Mystrery of the useful  tree,

       planted, shot down

And mystery of the man

       less and less respectful of the tree.

Ecrit le long du Canal de Samerey, Côte d’Or, 1987

Translation of the author (2007)

“Fleur, en joue !” – 2009 – ISBN 978-2-9516161-8-9 – JePublie (version papier)

 & e-book Numilog.com (10€)

THE WOODLICE

Before  I was

      narrow,

      shallow,

      cripple

With you, the woodlice ;

And now I am

      broad,

      deep,

      nimble

Far from you,  the woodlice.

Hey ! Without you

I am anyway.