A poem for Tuesday

This poem is for Marie-Eve. She found the English of last poem difficult to understand. Thankfully, I can post Beckett in both French and English. And, I always relish an excuse to post Beckett. Marie-Eve is opening her new boulangerie really soon - on June 10th - and I know many, many joyful customers will cross its threshold.

my way is in the sand flowing
between the shingle and the dune

the summer rain rains on my life

on me my life harrying fleeing

to its beginning to its end

my peace is there in the receding mist

when I my cease from treading these long shifting thresholds

and live the space of a door

that opens and shuts


je suis ce cours de sable qui glisse

entre le galet et la dune
le pluie d'eté pleut sur ma vie

sur moi ma vie qui me fuit me poursuit
et finira le jour de son commencement

cher instant je te vois
dans ce rideau de brume qui recule

où je n'aurai plus à fouler ces longs seuils mouvants

et vivrai le temps d'une porte

qui s'ouvre et se referme

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