A toi ma maitresse


The poem below is my only poem in French.It’s a tribute from a student to his/her teacher.

Translating poetry is challenging , yet I’ve  made an effort to give you , dear friends , an idea about the purport of this poem.

A toi ma maitresse préférée

J ai écris et je te dédie ces vers.

Tes cours étaient tellement désires

Et ta méthode efficace et nullement sévère.


Tu nous as montre le vrai chemin de dieu

Et tu nous as incite a faire de notre mieux.


Tu as su combine art et efficacité

Avec intelligence et perspicacité .


L’année scolaire s’ est  écoule très vite

Mais tu est devenue déjà pour nous un mythe.


Tu est une vraie légende vivante

Et avec tout le monde tu as une belle entente.


Ta personne restera gravée dans nos mémoires

Car chaque moment de votre séance est a valoir.

***********

To you my favorite teacher

I’ve written and I’ll dedicate these verses.

Your lessons were so desirable

And your method efficient and not severe.

You have shown us the true path of god

And you’ve encouraged us to do our best.

You knew  how to combines art and efficiency

With intelligence and rare  perspicacity.

The school year has  quickly elapsed

But you have already become a hero for us.

You are a true living  legend

And with everyone you have an amicable rapport

Your will remain engraved in our memories

For every moment of your class  is precious.

The ShoeShine Boy


I’m proud and delighted to receive the perfect poet award for the third time. I’d like to thank jingle for this award and for the efforts she has been investing in the organisation of the thursday poets’ rally : http://jingleyanqiu.wordpress.com/2010/04/16/you-are-perfect-poet-at-week-14-award-announcement/

He was  a tiny smelly  boy

kicked out of second grade

To  become  a shoeshiner by trade.

He never had  a ball or a toy

he never played  or felt joy .

His childhood was betrayed

his innocence slowly decayed.

After he left school

The  brush became his tool.

Usually seated on a low stool

His hands covered with bruise

Deftly Polished people’s shoes

Brushing, buffing

Puffing for very few dimes

Not enough to survive the hard times.

Some customers  were so cruel

Seeing his mouth in drool

Used to  call  him “the fool”

But he managed to keep his cool.

All his  life  he had  to endure

A  heart disease without cure .

The   prospect  looms  obscure

So, Death was his lot for sure.

***************************

I nominate Trisha for the award; she is so  talented.

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