Mots en mouvement /Words on the Move 2008

Traduction du poème "Carnets secrets d'Agathe Brisebois" de Patrick Coppens.
Translation of Patrick Coppens' poem "Carnets secrets d'Agathe Brisebois

Susan Spier


The Secret Notebooks of Agathe Brisebois
By Patrick Coppens (translated by Susan Spier)

*****
My work is eternal
but evanescent

shapes taking up space
are a subtle excuse for colour

About colours:
those that fade
were not meant to last.

Frosty little bells, a sled of words.

Poetry plays havoc
with my forgotten memories

*****

He approached to ask me the time,
I refused.
Seeing him dumbstruck, I specified:
don't worry, she'll come.

It was noon.
One day, I lived my life,
and the next, yours.
Then, it was over.

'I believe you are a poet
but you won't discover anything original
that is - anything crucial,
by contemplating your own navel.'
(Max Jacob,
letter to François Gachot, May 7, 1926)


*****

Don't forget the photos;
Those when we danced in Sospel,
on the brink of the Merlanson.

summer loves
thoughts of red currants

Mysteries reproduce
like rabbits. Cheers!


“Combing illusion and reality
in the same object, makes it
a disturbing reflection of our inner self”
(Bernard Noël,
Les peintres du désir, 1992)

I like abstraction
in the thin cracks of reality.

*****

Anonymity,
some days it, weighs on me,
others, it makes me sad;
I rejoice all the same
because no one can take it from me.
Yet when I write, when I draw,
I feel like a queen, admired by my subjects.

Pleasing exhausts those
Who don't love themselves enough.

*****

Style.
How does it inspire me?


LUCK IS A PAINTING
WITH WINNING NUMBERS.



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