End of April. Plane trees – platanus hispanica – are now sailing along in the clear morning light. Horse chestnut-trees and paulownias have reached the peak of their beauty.

2017-04-21 08.35.37

The time of the euphorbia has passed. The time of the wisteria is drawing to an end.

(Euphorbia near Pernety, purple wisteria in Rue des Thermopyles, white wisteria in my street)

In the gardens, bind weed is awakening : awe.
Ivy-leaved toadflax finds its way in small cracks in the pavements, and is now flowering : joy.

Over the Channel, in my small Canterbury garden, are the peonies in full bloom ? Have the Siberian irises come to grow and thrive ? Or did the Kentish summer draught bring their young shoots down ? Voices too thin to carry over the sea, however strong the wind.

Longing for silence and light
to the swift morning breeze
I commend my desire –
may it fly 
to Southern shores where grow
their hearts and mine alike
plane trees

vast as a summer sky

How I now fear that my parents will leave the Mediterranean town I have come to call home.

That one could dwell under mountains born by the sea, among rocks and flora interwoven in an unmistakable treasure of light, that one could walk paths of thyme and rosemary in a landscape of limestone beauty, and envisage to leave them is beyond me.

To the great pines standing still under the Summer halt, and whispering in the evening breeze, that one could say farewell ?

2015-08-18 16.14.46
Pine trees on Cap-Brun

Parting song

There is blue in the sunbeams
A libration in the trees’ songs
December is like a stream
Cutting through slanting seasons
Signs are laid for all to heed
Time has come for me to leave

On the cobbles where you flew
Chased and torn and broken fell
I am still looking for you
Tender prey of a deep spell
Let me bear your long sorrow
Time has come to let it go

Sparrows ruffle the hedges
Wind-borne martins sear the skies
Brightness is sharpening edges
Of branches’ pure outlines
Seeds of love, you said, let us sow
Is it time to let you go ?

If it is that time again
To give in to forgetfulness
Part of me will last remain
Interwoven in past steps
Slumber is only shallow
Time has come for me to go

To an old Worm (or Smaug’s Uncle).

Moons come and go, and seasons pass
Many men’s lives, centuries fast
Bright sunny days far above gleam
But deep inside the mountain you dream
Sat on treasures a-sparkling

Moons come and go – what do you see
In your long age of reverie
Chests of jewels, glistening stones ?
Or can you still feel in your bones
Deep in your heart rememb’ring

Up in high skies the breath of winds
Wildly flowing upon your wings
The golden rays of a clear dawn –
Would you still know from days long gone
The living World a-changing ?

Spirit of greed, heavy slumber
Have they extinguished the thunder
That before you all things would bow
And to sure death whole cities vow
Under the blaze a-searing ?

Well then, sleep tight, oh Dragon of old
As ages flow, Fire gone cold
And while you guard your very own jail
Your name will turn into a tale
For the children a-singing.

P.S. : I have found this fantastic drawing of Smaug by the illustrator Daniel Govar. I didn’t dare to ask him if I could post a copy here, so you’ll have to click on the link. 😉

On the Nine-tailed Fox

Lurking in the darkness, waiting for its hour,
Star of hatred and blade of wrath, hidden so deep
The light of your conscience won’t reach the secret shore
On which the ripples die of its ominous sleep,

Skulking and rumbling, sighing and snarling, the Curse
Creeps up into your dreams, and to your soul adverse
Will colour in your days in unsuspected shades,
Waiting for your anger to open wide the Gates.

Tightly the Seal of Love have kept them shut so far
But there is not a heart anger does never sway
Beware, young warrior, born under Kyuubi’s star
The Nine-tailed will awake ; the Fox will find his way.

Thanks to the fan who coloured the picture, I am sorry I don’t know your name.