Sang

I figured, while I’m just filling up my blog with stuff, let’s post more of my old French poems, they do need a place!  So here’s another poem that differed greatly from my normal style of writing, which usually includes love poems. The poem was written on 13/Sep/1994, during my college days. Sang (blood) was a good metaphor to be used for such a subject.

Sang

Sang. Sang qui circule
Dans mes veine bleus
Sang. Sang qui coule
Comme les larmes de mes yeux

Une lame de couteau
enfoncée dans mon ventre
rouge foncé, pas de l’eau
qui s’échappe et non rentre

Sang. Sang, oui je le vois
Qui est présent partout
partout autour de moi!
Sang. Qui me plais, surtout!!

Non, non! ne me touchez pas!
Laissez le sang sortir de là!
car cela me donne la sensation
que je n’ai pas de couleur
ni de nation!!

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