Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Claude Esteban

ONE GAVE ONESELF TIME

One gave oneself time, one
lost oneself, one followed

the sun, one fell asleep so often
on a bed of straw,

and now, how fresh is
the memory of wind

one might say that the rain hissed
a long silence

and it was as if in the evening
gods were born

but so small
that the birds pecked them like grain.

ON S’EST DONNE LE TEMPS

ON S’EST DONNE LE TEMPS

On s’est donné le temps, on s’est
perdus, on a poursuivi

le soleil, on s’est endormis tant de fois
sur un lit de paille,

maintenant, comme il est frais
le souvenir du vent

on dirait que la pluie fait un long
silence

et c’est comme si dans le soir
des dieux naissaient

mais si petits
que les oiseaux les picorent comme des graines.
Close

ONE GAVE ONESELF TIME

One gave oneself time, one
lost oneself, one followed

the sun, one fell asleep so often
on a bed of straw,

and now, how fresh is
the memory of wind

one might say that the rain hissed
a long silence

and it was as if in the evening
gods were born

but so small
that the birds pecked them like grain.

ONE GAVE ONESELF TIME

One gave oneself time, one
lost oneself, one followed

the sun, one fell asleep so often
on a bed of straw,

and now, how fresh is
the memory of wind

one might say that the rain hissed
a long silence

and it was as if in the evening
gods were born

but so small
that the birds pecked them like grain.
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