Tache

Another one of my French-English poems.

Steps upon the fresh white snow

For each step, another hollow

Je continue ma candence

Dans la forêt du silence

Once fluffy and light, now the snow

Is battered at places, is sunk down below

Ce que j'étais est devenu mystère

Alors que je deviens une étrangère

I have stained the snow with red ripe fruit

In my never-ending pursuit

L'innocence que j'ai connu

M'est à présent toujours perdu

Still long before the snow will melt

Still long before the last blow is dealt

Je me sens femme, et puis pourtant

En moi je vois encore une enfant...

Author's Note

I haven't published anything for so long! Hope you enjoy.

Reviews

[Arthur Crow]

Yes! did enjoy, this is a delicious treat.. such great style and flow. And enough emotion to paint the readers mind into the lines. Loved it!

[An owl on the moon]

Your imagery is fascinating, taking us across fresh white snow... leaving a trail in its perfection... And your flow with French and English is flawless... Ah, the stain... the marks we leave behind as we walk... as we journey life... This is simply amazing... And yes... I enjoyed it very much!