Poetic Allusions · Un P'tit Je Ne Sais Quoi

❝ So many days, oh so many days seeing you so tangible and so close, how do I pay, with what do I pay? The bloodthirsty spring has awakened in the woods. The foxes start from their earth, the serpents drink the dew, and I go with you to the leaves between the pines and the silence, asking myself how and when I will have to pay for my luck. Of everything I have seen, it’s you I want to go on seeing: of everything I’ve touched, it’s your flesh I want to go on touching. I love your orange laughter. I am moved by the sight of you sleeping. What am I to do, love, loved one? I don’t know how others love or how people loved in the past. I live, watching you, loving you. Being in love is my nature. You please me more each afternoon. Where is she? I keep on asking if your eyes disappear. How long she’s taking! I think, and I’m hurt. I feel poor, foolish, and sad, and you arrive and you are lightning glancing off the peach trees. ...

i blindfolded the trees with a green bandana and I told them to find me and the trees found me instantly with a guffaw of leaves i blindfolded the birds with a kerchief of clouds and i told them to find me... and the birds found me with a song... i blindfolded the sadness with a smile... and the sadness found me the next day into a love... i blindfolded the sun with my nights and i told him to find me... and the sun said, — «you're there everywhere, all this time, don't hide anymore.» «don't you hide anymore», said all the things and sentiments which i tried to blindfold 'em.» translation‧‧‧ ©ᵏᴼᵏᴼ ↭ un p'tit je ne sais quoi ‧ chic… à ma façon

« All night I have slept with you next to the sea, on the island. Wild and sweet you were between pleasure and sleep, between fire and water. Perhaps very late our dreams joined at the top or at the bottom, up above, like branches moved by a common wind, down below, like red roots that touch. Perhaps your dream drifted from mine and through the dark sea was seeking me as before, when you did not yet exist, when without sighting you I sailed by your side, and your eyes sought what now - bread, wine, love, and anger - I heap upon you because you are the cup that was waiting for the gifts of my life. I have slept with you all night long while the dark earth spins with the living and the dead, and on waking suddenly in the midst of the shadow my arm encircled your waist. Neither night nor sleep could separate us. I have slept with you and on waking, your mouth, come from your dream, gave me a taste of earth, of seawater, of seaweed, of the depths of your life, and I received your kiss mois...

« You who never arrived in my arms, Beloved, who was lost from the start, I don't even know what songs would please you. I have given up trying to recognize you in the surging wave of the next moment. All the immense images in me— the far-off, deeply-felt landscape, cities, towers, and bridges, and unsuspected turns in the path, and those powerful lands that were once pulsing with the life of the gods— all rise within me to mean you, who forever elude me. You, Beloved, who is all the gardens I have ever gazed at, longing. An open window in a country house, — and you almost stepped out, pensive, to meet me. Streets that I chanced upon,— you had just walked down them and vanished. And sometimes, in a shop, the mirrors were still dizzy with your presence and, startled, gave back my too-sudden image. Who knows? Perhaps the same bird echoed through both of us yesterday, separate, in the evening... »

« I don’t wake up in the morning and say, wow I've got a great idea for a story. But I sit down, and I figure well, let’s see. I think people are interested in anything that’s a little bigger than life, and that’s colorful; and – you know, what they like? They like fairy tales for grown-ups. Singing a song, playing sports – anything that entertains; that takes people away from their own problems, it's good. There is only one who is all-powerful, and his greatest weapon is love. »  Catch Me Now I'm Falling

if you don't know how to bite,  do not bark...  that's what it says on the tin

if you'd gonna disappear, in a random evening gloom, my sweet one, my bitter one, I'd sail crazy on the sea-foam, with a sack that's full of clay, and a back-full of twig-sprigs, to reshape you from beginning with the power of my hand; (long and monotonous labor, just to bring you back to life,  lovely femme adored woman), me, a sick Pygmalion... — c'mon, wander, Galatea (long and monotonous labor, just to bring you back to life, lovely femme adored woman) [x2] If you'd gonna disappear, be your death made of life only, my sweet one, my bitter one, I'd go to the ice's countries to rebuild you out of icicles, dressing you into a hoarfrost, — (after that, be free to leave wherever your dreams may lead); If you'd gonna truly fall at the moment of a high reveal, I would quietly come to you, recompose you out of angels; (I would quietly come to you,  recompose you out of angels) [x2] After all this, I will leave... — (humiliated and bamboozled) to the side w...

— Can I tell you a secret? I'm not very good at keeping secrets.    — What?    —  I just wanted to take another look at you. Look at me.          I love you! You're the music to my eyes!         They can't hurt us. We're far from the shallow now.

❝ This is true, my love that the lightning flashes in the light of your eyes makes the clouds in my heart explode and blaze This is true, my love that your sweet lips are red as a blushing bride This is true, my love that the tree of paradise flowers within you that your footsteps beat to the rhythm of my soul the night sheds drops of dew at your sight that the morning surrounds you with light from delight that the touch of your hot breath intoxicates my soul This is true, my love that daylight hides in the dark of your hair that your voice makes the world fall silent to hear your song and that the universe is nothing but your lovemaking. This is true, my love.... ❞

About 60 km off Marseille, at Mouriès, in Bouches-du-Rhône, in a paradise realm, at the age of 94, the great artist, Charles Aznavour passed away leaving behind an extraordinary treasure of songs dipped in love stories. Piously, the world bows in front of him for the last time. Adieu, Monsieur.

«Education is like an erection. You can tell if you have one. Can be seen. Can be felt.» — said, Ricky Martin. And yet, in another term, a brainy one said, — «Some might look smart, but if they're not authentically idiots, it's not enough. Nolens volens, they'll divulge their own under-cover, sooner or later.»

« Chargée de fruits légers aux lèvres Parée pe mille fleurs variées Glorieuse dans les bras du soleil Heureuse d'un oiseau familier Ravie d'une goutte de pluie Plus belle que le ciel du matin Fidèle Je parle d'un jardin je rêve Mais j'aime justement » ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ L'Amoureuse ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ «« Elle est debour sur mes paupières Et ses cheveux sont dans les miens, Elle a la forme de mes mains, Elle a la couleur de mes yeux, Elle s'engloutit dan mon ombre Comme une pierre sur le ciel. Elle a toujours les yeux ouverts Et ne me laisse pas dormir. Ses rêves en pleine lumière Font s'évaporer les soleils, Me font rire, pleurer et rire, Parler sans avoir rien à dire »» ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ Capitale de la douleur ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ « Ta voix, tes yeux, tes mains, tes lèvres, Nos silences, nos paroles, La lumière qui s’en va, la lumière qui revient, Un seul sourire pour nous deux, Par besoin de savoir, j’ai vu la nuit créer...

« Votre âme est un paysage choisi que vont charmants masques et bergamasques jouant du luth et dansant et quasi tristes sous leurs déguisements fantasques. Tout en chantant sur le mode mineur, l’amour vainqueur et la vie opportune, ils n’ont pas l’air de croire à leur bonheur et leur chanson se mêle au clair de lune, au calme, clair de lune, triste et beau, qui fait rêver les oiseaux dans les arbres et sangloter d’extase les jets d’eau, les grands jets d’eau sveltes parmi les marbres. »  

♀ «I fell asleep... I... I fell asleep...  I fell asleep, but in my dream, I was awake and  you were there flying through the air. You told me a lie about blue light... ... tutoring in your eyes and you dove into the ocean and never came up. Because I was awake, I wept after...  Your face appeared in a cloud... I put a photo of the cloud online and  I smiled and I knew it was a dream. When I shook myself out, my body was soaked a thousand times over sweat  and tears and strangers and forever... •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• ♂ Sure, everything's fine»

« unable to perceive the shape of you, i find you all around me your presence fills my eyes with your love, humbling my heart for you are everywhere » • the art of pretending to swim •

do not ask me what i want if i want,  but better act, you to make me want  what you want, as if it's me, the one  that wants what in fact you wanted,  like me to want to dare to say, - you

— « Can you tell me in a short complete sentence  featuring no words over two syllables, why exactly  I  am  in these pictures? — Theoretically, if you go to the past in the future, then your future lies in the past. This is a picture of you in the future — in the past.  — Say that again.  │ — Until?   │  — until...until...»

❝ Is this love reality or a dream? I cannot know when both, (reality and dream), exist without truly existing.❞

What will you say tonight, poor lonely soul,  What will you say, the old withered heart of mine,  To the most beautiful, the best, the most dear,  Whose heavenly regard brings back your bloom?      — We will assign our pride to sing her praise:  Nothing excels the sweetness of her will;  Her holy body has an angel's scent,  Her eye invests us with a cloak of light.      Whether it be at night or in solitude,  Or in the streets among the multitude,  Her ghost before us dances like a torch.      It speaks out: 'I'm lovely and command  That for my sake love, you'll adore only the Beautiful;  I am your Guardian, Madonna, and the Muse!