Saïda Menebhi, Poème du 20 octobre 1976 (Prison civile de Casablanca)
Le vent de mon pays souffle, hurle, gronde sur la terre humide qu’il balaie il trace des figures il grave un passé le mien, le tien, celui de chacun son bruit me rappelle une symphonie celle que tu sussurais à mon oreille chaque nuit Avant, il y a longtemps déjà aujourd’hui, ce soir, cette nuit seules les empreintes de la vie me reviennent à l’esprit et la pluie tenace, le vent têtu reviennet comme chaque année et me ramènent à toi aussi loin que tu sais me rappellent encore que j’ai un corps que j’ai une voix que j’élève en offrande à toi. Trackbacks
Thank you for sharing these beautifull poems with us.
Usually, terrible things that are done with the excuse that progress requires them are not really progress at all, but just terrible things.
Russell Baker
Still a little bit of your taste in my mouth Still a little bit of you laced with my doubt Still a little hard to say what's going on
Still a little bit of your ghost your witness Still a little BIT of your face I haven't kissed You step a little closer EACH DAY Still I can't SAY what's going on
Stones taught me to fly Love taught me to lie Life taught me to die So it's not hard to fall When you float like a cannonball
Still a little bit of your song in my ear Still a little bit of your words I long to hear You step a little closer TO ME So close that I can't see what's going on
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