MY LIFE

I live, so do you!
What is the point, may I ask you?
It is for sure no child’s game,
For if it were, then why the pain?

My life arrived without warning,
And its purpose did not reveal.
I was not asked for permission,
And saying “no” was no option.

My life is a garland of the seasons
And a Master of Illusion:
Am I a caterpillar or a butterfly?
Am I a seed or a blossom?

Spring of my life – Sweet fragrances and innocence…
Baby moves on all four
And when one year, it stands up
To bravely trot toward summer.

Summer – sunshine – heartbeats…
The child demands to be set free!

Autumn
The sap slows down its course,
And the tree of my life falls asleep
No, there is no sadness in dying,
Trees are glowing,
and leaves fall falling without a scream…

This is what I wish for as the autumn of my life
So that it can be said of it:
“It was for sure a nice autumn.”
And when winter slowly moves in,
Dusting my hair with powder,
I shall happily shuffle along
Toward a renewal of verdure.

Written in French in 1977

Adapted in English 1/20/2015