PAS DE FUMÉE SANS FEU - NO SMOKE WITHOUT FIRE

2 texts: first in French, second in English





                                            TOUT  FEU, TOUT FLAMME


                                           Chaudes danseuses de l'hiver

                                         Les flammes s'agitent dans l'air.

                                                 Sous leurs jolis atours

                                      Le bois se consume, épris d'amour,

                                      Lui qui n'en a plus pour longtemps

                                       Espère vivre un dernier printemps.

                                        Mais elles ne veulent rien écouter

                                      Attirées par le conduit de cheminée,

                                                  Elles aspirent à s'enfuir

                                         Pour l'aventure, sans idée de nuire.

                                  Je rajoute un morceau pour comprendre :

                                           Les belles partent à son assaut,

                                          L'enlacent avec fougue aussitôt,

                                          Résolues à le réduire  en cendres.

                                              Seul  rempart à  leur volonté

                                          Elles le consomment avec célérité.

                                                 Ainsi libérées de leur licol,

                                            Ces braves finiront par gagner

                                             S'évanouissant en fumerolles

                                               Dans la froide nuit étoilée.




MY  TRANSLATION


                                                  

                                                       ALL FIRED UP

                                             
                                               Hot dancers of winter

                                             The flames stir  in the air .

                                             Under their pretty attires

                                             The wood burns, in love,

                                             It which has much longer

                                             Hope to live a last spring.

                                      But they do want to hear anything

                                         Attracted by the chimney flue,

                                              They aspire to escape

                                     For adventure, without harming idea.

                                           I add a piece to understand:
 
                                        The lovelies go up to its assault,
 
                                         Entwine it passionately at once
 
                                       Determined to reduce it to ashes.

                                        Only barrier to their willingness

                                             They consume it quickly.

                                             Thus freed of their halter,

                                     These courageous will ultimately win

                                             Disappearing in fumaroles

                                                 In the cold night sky.

L'EMBARRAS DU CHOIX - THE VERY WIDE CHOICE

2 texts: first in French, second in English




                                                                               O
                                                    O                              O


                              O               BUFFETS A VOLONTÉ             O

                          
                                                 O                                  O

                                                                                O

           
                       Ventres vides                                                                       Ventres pleins

                     Des terres arides                                                                  D'inutiles biens            
    
                            [?]                                                                        [ ¨- ¤, °]
                                                               Ventres gonflés
                                                            
                                                         De malnutrition, affolés 

                                                                   [~~~~] 
  
                      Ventres plats                                                                       Ventres creux

               De  corps  sans joie                                                              De tous les miséreux

                            ][                                                                                          [(

                                                 Ventres  obèses

                                                               De la vie qui pèse

                                      [O
          Ventres mous                         Ventre durs 
              De régime, fous                                         De l'ascétisme pur    

                              [}                                                    ]I[

                                                     
                                                    Sur cetteTerre en même fermage
                                                       Notre corps se met en images
  
                                                        En quelques figures de style

                                                   De tous les maux de nos vies en péril
                                      


MY TRANSLATION

                                    

                                                                               O
                                          O                             O


                                     O             UNLIMITED BUFFETS      O

                                         
                                   O                             O

                                                   O

                    Empty bellies                                                                        Full bellies

                     Of arid lands                             Of unnecessary possessions
                                                              
               [?]                                      [ ¨ -  ¤ , ° ]
                               Swollen bellies
 
                                                  Of malnutrition, maddened

                                [~~~~]

           Flat bellies                                                                           Hollow bellies
             Of bodies without joy                                                          Of all the wretched

                 ][                                               [(
                                                             Obese bellies
 
                                                      Of the life which weighs 
 
                                    [O
          Limp bellies                                                           Hard bellies
               Of diets, crazy                                 From the pure asceticism

              [}                                                                                              ]I[

                        
                                          On this Earth in same tenant farming

                                                  Our body puts into images

                                               In these few figures of speech

                                              All the evils of our lives in peril


 

                                                                                 

NEIGE A GOGO - SNOW IN ABUNDANCE

2 texts: first in French, second in English

                                             


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                                               0  0   0    0            0    0   0   0
                                               0 L'ENVERS DU DECOR 0
                                                0   0                                 0    0
                                                0                                             0


                                               Chaque jour plus émerveillée

                                       Par la blancheur qui m'entoure au lever

                                      Magnifique paysage d'un éclat lumineux

                                    Tout ce qui manquait à mes hivers pluvieux.

                                    Prudemment, je m'initie à ce nouvel élément

                               Avec pneus neige, chaînes et pelle de déneigement.

                              Quelques sueurs froides sur la route départementale :

                                    Poursuivie par un chasse neige monumental

                                     Aiguisant ses monstrueuses lames acérées,

                                        Désespérée de me garer sur le bas côte

                                              Qui n'existe pas en cette saison,

                                    Je volais sur le bitume transformé en glaçon

                                           Telle la libellule au dessus de l'onde

                                 Quand soudain, une vicinale me sauva de l'effroi,

                                    Lui poursuivit son chemin, l'âme moribonde,

                                       Sans doute en quête d'une nouvelle proie.

                                           Depuis, j'ai appris qu'il replie ses ailes

                                              Au passage d'insectes  plus frêles.

                                             Ces nouveautés repeignent ma vie

                                                 Aux couleurs qui me sourient



 MY TRANSLATION


                                             0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 
                                             0   0    0   0   0   0   0   0   0  0
                                             0   0   0   0     0    0   0    0    0
                                             0   0   0    0           0   0    0   0                         
                                             0   THE HIDDEN SIDE     0
                                             0   0                                    0   0
                                              0                                            0

                                               Every day more marveled

                                      By the whiteness around me at sunrise

                                      Stunning landscape of a luminous glow

                                     All that was missing in my rainy winters.

                                       Prudently I approach this new element

                                     With snow tires, chains and shovel snow.

                                   Some cold sweats on the departmental road:

                                      Pursued by a monumental snowplough

                                        Whetting its monstrous sharp blades,

                                         Desperate to park on the lower side

                                         That does not exist in this season,

                                   I was flying on the pavement turned into ice

                                        Such the dragonfly above the water

                                    Suddenly, a byroad saved me from terror,

                                          It went on its way, the dying soul,

                                           Probably looking for a new prey.

                                    I have since learned that it folds its wings

                                     When it goes beyond more frail insects.

                                          These novelties repaint my life

                                          With the colors that smile at me

FUNAMBULES - TIGHTROPE WALKERS

2 texts: first in French, second in English







             V  V              V V                    FUNAMBULES          V    V           V   V       V

            V   V V V                  V  V V                      V V  V V             V V      V V V       V V



                                              Sous les chauds rayons du soleil

                                           Qui  exaltent tendrement  ma peau

                                                J'entends chanter les oiseaux

                                              Depuis l'aurore, ils sont en éveil

                                        Vaquant à  leurs occupations du moment

                                                 En allers et retours incessants

                                          Certains à  pattes parcourent le jardin

                                        A la recherche de leur petit ver du matin

                                               Enfin, ils s'installent sur un fil

                                      Attendant la belle à qui compter fleurette

                                          Toute simple cette primitive recette

                                            Pour réapprendre la vie qui jubile





MY TRANSLATION


               V  V              V V            TIGHTROPE WALKERS          V    V           V   V       V 

              V   V V V                  V  V V                      V V  V V             V V      V V V       V V

          

                                                       Under the hot sun

                                               Which exalt my skin tenderly

                                                     I hear the birds sing

                                            Since dawn, they are awakened

                                     Going about their business of the moment

                                             Work back and forth incessant

                                              Some in legs travel the garden

                                     A search of their little worm from morning

                                             Finally, they settled on a thread

                                    Waiting the beautiful one with whom to flirt

                                           Very simple this primitive recipe

                                            To relearn the life which exults

LE POURQUOI DU COMMENT - WHY AND HOW

                            
           

 ZOUFRIS MARACAS :    Notre avenir décapé à l'humour
                                               Par de joyeux troubadours
                                                   Textes et musiques
                                                   D'un genre unique !

Je vous invite à les découvrir, ce n'est que du bonheur ....


ZOUFRIS MARACAS  :   Our future sanded with humor
                                                By merry troubadours
                                                   Lyrics and music
                                                    a unique way!
I invite you to discover them , pure happiness ....                 

                                

MES VOEUX, BIEN SUR ! MY WISHES OF COURSE !

2 texts: first in French, second in English





                                                                                            /\
                                                                                             \  \
                                                                                               \  \
                                                                                                 \  \
                                                                      _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _\  \     
                                                                    I                                 I
                                                                    I                2               I
                                                                    I                0               I
                                                                    I                1                I
                                                                    I               3                I
                                                                 \ I _  _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  I


                                                                2014, bienvenue à toi

                                                           Seras-tu une année détresse 

                                                              Ou une année caresse ?

                                                             Seul l'avenir nous le dira

                                                          Assez des impôts, du boulot,

                                                          Du loto et des patates à l'eau 

                                                    Parions plutôt sur le retour de l'amour,

                                               Des petits fours, des vacances pour toujours

                                                                         Qui que tu sois

                                                             Les mathématiques font loi

                                                             Nous n'y échapperons pas

                                                            Alors dans ce nouveau cabas

                                                          Mettons-y ce que nous désirons

                                                       Pour que le monde tourne plus rond


                                                      BONNE ANNEE A TOUS




MY TRANSLATION




                                               2014, Welcome to you

                                                           Will you be one year distress 

                                                                  Or a year caress?
 
                                                           Only the future will tell us
 
                                                               Tired of taxes, job,
 
                                                            Lotto and boiled potatoes 

                                                        Rather bet on the return of love,

                                                         Fancy cakes, holidays forever

                                                                    Whoever you
 
                                                                Mathematics is law
 
                                                              We do not escape you
 
                                                             So in this new tote bag
 
                                                             Let's put what we want
 
                                                          For the world turns rounder


                                             HAPPY NEW YEAR FOR ALL