Wednesday, August 09, 2006


Pour "Ohwon" Jang Seung-Up, peintre coréen, mystérieusement disparu en 1897.

Sur l’eau de la rivière
Non loin d’un lit de cailloux
Je calligraphie ton nom

Un ventre de neige
L’élégance de ta nuque

La douceur de l’eau
Entre tes cuisses

Le dessin de tes mains
Et cette bouche
Pour laquelle
Le soleil se pend

J’écris et je peins
Tout cela
Qui va se mélangeant
Au monde lui-même
For "Ohwon" Jang Seung-Up, Korean painter who disappeared mysteriously in 1897.
On the water of the river
Not too far from a stony bank
I write your name

Your snowy belly
The elegance of your neck

The softness of this water
Between your legs

The outlines of your hands
And this mouth
For which
The sun hangs itself

I write and paint
All this
And all this then goes and merges
With the very world


Blogger oxeye said...

Pierre, I wish we had your english translation of this poem. I know only a little french but you invoke some beautiful images between landscape and human body.

9:59 AM  
Blogger anu said...

Whatever you've written, I'm sure it must be so lovely :)Hugs

10:18 AM  
Blogger Pierre Turlur said...

Thank you Oxeye and Anu. I will try to put this poem in good English.

7:22 PM  
Blogger oxeye said...

thank you Pierre..

10:25 PM  
Blogger anu said...

Ohhh Pierre, thank you so much. This is so lovely :)every word sings to my soul..

7:17 AM  
Blogger Magda said...

Pourquoi créer ?

8:54 AM  
Blogger Pierre Turlur said...

Je ne sais pas. Je crois que créer est une façon de poser cette question non d'y répondre.

Bien à toi.

2:41 AM  
Blogger Magda said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

8:58 AM  
Blogger Pierre Turlur said...

This is a cynical thought. Leaving traces behind? Talking to maggots? No, sweetheart. Creating is utterly useless. You can't feed a child with one of Bach's Passions. You won't go anywhere with a statue of Giacometti. This stuff is bloody useless. So? So! So be it. We just act. We make. Utterly useless. By the way, it is what human beings call love. Love is useless. Utterly useless and therefore boundless. Utterly boundless.

But you know this already.Don't you? Pick up your fiddle, and play!


9:51 AM  
Blogger Magda said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

10:29 AM  
Blogger oxeye said...

yo pierre, hope you are well.. i have missed your posts lately. we all do what we must do of course.. it is quite a miracle of living to look at one's life's work and to not understand it at all. but we just keep going on. what else can we do?

9:27 PM  
Blogger Pierre Turlur said...

So nice to hear from you Oxeye;

Quite a miracle not to understand what is going on and what we do, indeed.

I am sorry not to be so consistent with posting. Just very Busy, sometimes. And not always willing to write.

Be well and keep going too! keep doing your wonderful artwork!

3:06 AM  

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