Mélange
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
Inlassablement
J’écris et je peins
Tout cela
Qui va se mélangeant
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
Inlassablement
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
Restlessly,
I write and paint
All this
And all this then goes and merges
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
Restlessly,
I write and paint
All this
And all this then goes and merges
With the very world
posted by Taigu at 6:24 PM
7 Comments:
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.
Thank you Oxeye and Anu. I will try to put this poem in good English.
thank you Pierre..
Je ne sais pas. Je crois que créer est une façon de poser cette question non d'y répondre.
Bien à toi.
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!
Love
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?
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!
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