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Poetry Magnum Opus



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O Lucienne ...

if I had a pen

to thee, dear, I would render

intimations of a heart's surrender

in such a burning letter of love

that it would tear asunder

not only gods of thunder

but bring down cascading

a shower of honey sweets

from all the stars above.


O Lucienne ...

you remind me much of home

distressed am I that I must roam

so very sad I cannot spare

a moment here, a moment there

for you, sweet Lucienne!

Dear Lucienne, do you

think you might search out a pen

s'il tu plait; do you think

you might not think so much

of reason, even less of rhyme, reserve

for thinking less of our time?


Voila! N'est ce pas

La plume de ma tante

est sur la table.


Well, well, well ...

ma chere belle

hold up the discovered pen

in your pretty hand. Now

if you please. As if to tease

you respond, but I smile tightly

and send away the gawping maid.

Sprightly, now, you smile at me

sensing something

pensive, as if slightly afraid.

The clock ticks in the parlour

noisily: a bird, two birds,

outside in the sun-dappled garden

sing in the sick apple tree.


Alas, Lucienne

we now approach the end

of this our mutual fancy:

your high breasts and your sparkling eyes

could no more win me over

than my fierce bearing could for thee:

buried in hatred, a glancing intimacy

as noisily now comes Sergeant Clancy

his boots resounding by the door:

what chance there was exists no more.

Pick up that pen, Lucienne,

Vite, vite, vite, mam'selle, compris?

Sign over the deeds to the family farm

and by losing all, escape from harm.

Drown your sorrows in drink, by all means, but the real sorrows can swim

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To me, this came across as a love poem. Well, at least until the last verse introduced a little wartime intrigue.


your high breasts and your sparkling eyes

could no more win me over

Sacré Coeur! They'd probably win me over. :rolleyes: Are you sure there's no way for a happy ending? :@@ Oh well, I'd make a poor secret agent, and I'm not so much an opportunist. But really, it's not that I'm not so good with machinations, but the romantic side wins out every time.


I'm curious, is this one entirely something from your imagination or is it based upon real (historical) events? Would love a few brief footnotes.



Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

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Hello dedalus,



La plume de ma tante

est sur la table.


I could be totally off the mark here but these lines to my very amateurish French reading seems to go:


The pen of my aunt is on the table.


The Voila! adding a overly dramatic effect of delight and surprise.


And is this a line from the Beatles' song, Michelle?


ma chere belle.


So from these meagre details of my French reading I understood this to be a humourous write.



Apologies if I've got the wrong end of the stick.

Edited by goldenlangur




Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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And this is a master piece of yours Dedalus. Sounds like ballad. So lyrical and musical. With slow sound and notes of calm between.


This is from those who would be amazing to hear them if you make an audio record for this poem.


I enjoyed.



The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia



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