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Notes :

Salut :)

J'avais commencé à écrire un poème en anglais pendant les Nuits d'HPF (je sais plus sur quel thème, mais bref) et je m'y suis remise tout à l'heure en retombant sur cette magnifique illustration de Paul Hoppe figurant dans le résumé. J'ai déjà visité Coney Island et j'ai trouvé cet endroit incroyablement mélancolique, donc j'ai voulu lui rendre hommage avec un petit poème de mon cru. Poème qui, franchement, ne respecte pas de règles particulières, et manque certainement de finesse. Je suis désolée pour les éventuelles maladresses et lourdeurs, l'anglais n'est pas ma langue maternelle. Je le traduirais peut-être en français plus tard, on verra bien.


The sun is shining on Coney Island

And I'm just here, thinking.

And you're just gone.

And the world is falling.

Coney Island is standing still.


The sand is driving us crazy.

Sand everywhere, in our faded memories and our broken dreams.

Sand on my lips, where you kissed me so long ago when it didn't matter, what the world thought of us.

Boys and girls, and everything in-between.

Behaving like never-growing kids,

The lost children of Neverland.

And we were there, together,

Carving our twisted tales on the beach,

With the blood of the stars and the screams of the waves,

Losing ourselves in a world of decaying colours

And the saccharine remnants of childhood.


We thought that it would never end,

That the story will continue to unfold itself forever

Under the blushing sky of summer

And the sweet caress of the wind.

We didn't see the storm coming,

The blue turning to grey.

We were kings and queens for a day, at the top of the Great Wheel.

We were kings and queens for a day, throwing away our crowns and laughing as if tomorrow would happen in the early morning.


But it never did.

The sun set up and disappeared.

I woke up by myself on the shore.

You were already far, far away.

Already blue from the cold of that day.

Not a child anymore,

Not even a king or a queen,

Just some ghostly figure fading away,

Not coming back at the end of the day.


And the sand is driving us crazy.

Sand crashing against your stiff body.

And the tears won't stop rolling down our icy cheeks.

And I'm just here, drowning

In the sea of memories you tattooed on my skin.

Where are you now, away from Coney Island and our throne?

Why are you away from Coney Island and our throne?

I could have said something to make you stay.

But you were already blue, from the cold of that day.

And it didn't matter, that the sun was shining.

And it didn't matter, that we were kings and queens.

Because you threw your crown so far away,

And I never brought it back to you, asking you to stay.


Your grave gets all sandy in the afternoon,

And the sun is shining

On Coney Island, like it used to

But it's not the same anymore, because I'm just here, thinking

About the way you left me

That day, on Coney Island,



Note de fin de chapitre:

Bon, c'est un poème sur la fin de l'enfance mais je sais pas si c'est très clair. Comment l'interprétez-vous, de votre côté ?

Merci de votre lecture, en tout cas.

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