deepundergroundpoetry.com
Jamais trop tard (Never Too Late)
En temps de malheur maudit
une branche séparée que je tiens
lier le salaire du péché
à ma plume de vertus flétrissantes,
debout stagnant
au carrefour de la vie
dans un océan de regrets,
Je prends le premier échelon d'or
sur l'échelle de la rédemption
cet obstacle a toujours été,
avant,
je me couchais et regardais
empereur de la procrastination
mes dons enracinés je doutais,
se lever comme une couvée
l'enfer de la faim
et jeter mon yawp
dans le vent je vais atterrir
et pontifier une pierre précieuse
forêt de magnificence
liquéfier chaque oreillette.
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Translation
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In times of cursed doom
a separate branch that I hold
to bind the wages of sin
to my pen of withering virtues,
standing stagnant
at the crossroads of life
in an ocean of regrets,
I take the first rung of gold
on the ladder of redemption
this obstacle has always been,
before,
I went to bed and I watched
emperor of procrastination
my rooted gifts I doubted,
to rise up like a brood
the hell of hunger
and throw my yawp
in the wind I'm going to land
and pontificate a gemstone
forest of magnificence
liquefy each atrium.
Copyright © 2017 Quietusquill.All Rights Reserved.No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
une branche séparée que je tiens
lier le salaire du péché
à ma plume de vertus flétrissantes,
debout stagnant
au carrefour de la vie
dans un océan de regrets,
Je prends le premier échelon d'or
sur l'échelle de la rédemption
cet obstacle a toujours été,
avant,
je me couchais et regardais
empereur de la procrastination
mes dons enracinés je doutais,
se lever comme une couvée
l'enfer de la faim
et jeter mon yawp
dans le vent je vais atterrir
et pontifier une pierre précieuse
forêt de magnificence
liquéfier chaque oreillette.
----------------------------------------------------
Translation
----------------------------------------------------
In times of cursed doom
a separate branch that I hold
to bind the wages of sin
to my pen of withering virtues,
standing stagnant
at the crossroads of life
in an ocean of regrets,
I take the first rung of gold
on the ladder of redemption
this obstacle has always been,
before,
I went to bed and I watched
emperor of procrastination
my rooted gifts I doubted,
to rise up like a brood
the hell of hunger
and throw my yawp
in the wind I'm going to land
and pontificate a gemstone
forest of magnificence
liquefy each atrium.
Copyright © 2017 Quietusquill.All Rights Reserved.No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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