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| Timothee Bordenave |
Human values.
« I was told that human values,
Are declining fast nowadays… »
Such as Cicero used to say,
In Ancient Rome… - There’s nothing new !
Well, as the progress moves us on,
Our times change, and we evolve,
Still, calmness, joy, contemplation,
Or empathy, help us to solve…
The equations of a problem,
In constant mutability :
That is an old ability !
Then, even if love is a gem,
In our heart,
Incorruptible…
We are meek, oh ! We are feeble.
Women kind
Women are akin to Angels,
With wings maybe they would rule all,
Though some women sometimes fall,
For a fruit they eat… Terrible.
Men, before the women, are fools,
But they could learn, what women teach,
Under their will, raised at their school,
They would get what the women preach…
Women are the most beautiful,
And lovely of all creatures…
There is an an old human gesture :
That we men should let you prevail,
Women... Then through your mystery veils,
Babies would be born.
That’s the rule !
An optimistic statement...
To appear an honest man, be yourself, honest.
To be loved and cherished, do love and do cherish.
To me would you wish to please ? Please me as you wish.
To her, would you like to kiss ? Follow on this quest !
Life is full of measures to the happy few men,
Who understood how it can be an harmony,
And to these few, chosen, Life whispers the omen,
It takes to be successful, as sought by many...
Just do the thing you want with attention and time,
It will eventually result to master it,
And if you set passion and love, the Infinite,
Will grant you it’s blessings : your treasure from a dime !
« - Tell me, joyful fellows : what a celebration !
Yes sir ! We are here for the return of the day !
For such an event, I guess you paid attention !
Oh yes sir - we are all upon this as one says ! »
The Mansion
There are trees, lawns around, a mansion and the skies... The Sea is not here though, but as a remembrance,
The Sun plays hide and seek and a fly there dances Trees, lawns, the Sun, the skies, this house and a fly...
And there are you and me, and we read the poems, With a glass of juice, and smoke dims the indoor lights As the afternoon passes and runs out of sight...
We are quiet children in the mansion of dreams !
Complaint of the garden
Under a tree, the rain
Drips, scare through its branches, I recall many nights
Awake till day was plain,
When I would have the chance Of you, close to my sight...
Oh ! Power of your eyes !
They would make a day bright And heal me from my pains... The beauty of your glance,
When will it shine again
For another Sunrise ?
...
Now in the garden dance
The raindrops of the skies
And tears I won’t refrain...
