Elle danse sur la toile
d’une araignée ailée
son sourire débordant
tentation pour les iris
le pied glisse
la pensée l’amortit
seul le cœur est tombé
dans la paume d’un ange
knocks at my thought
from the thought of the ocean
a paddle
lost by a boat in a memory wave
like a submerged rock surrounded by walls
where from a whimper departs
silences go out to greet him in the evening
witnesses being only the mornings
lost through ports
no one hears his grief
tuck to his chest like a poniard
The National Poetry Competition has been one of Britain's top single poem competitions since 1978. It is judged by a new set of judges each year, and all poems are made anonymous before they are judged. The National Poetry Competition is organised by the Poetry Society, one of Britain's most dynamic arts organisations, representing poetry both nationally and internationally.
ne nous laissons pas aller à l'attendrissement
c’est le dernier spectacle des fourmis
derrière ce grand sommeil
parmi les collines rouges
ne vous attristez pas tant
de cette bataille déjà perdue
la mort écrite autour d’un seul blessé n’est rien
nos souvenirs sont des lettres sans racines
la vie a toujours ses privilèges
ou ses victimes collatérales
embrasse-moi
Eyes bathed in tears of failure
Are hiding from your questing sight,
Mind, thoughts and senses become blure.
Don't ask why or how...you might!
Hands try to reach your hair
Stenched by a deceiving sweat,
But all they can find is a shape of despair
Wanting what should not be meant...
Queens and gods...may deserve bowness,
You...my dear are just a glimpse of my darkness
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