My friend Twanny used to blog at Triq il-Maqluba - a mosaical crossroads of cultures and ideas. His love of languages was always evident and the blog was a clear witness to this. His blog ended when he left Malta for Luxembourg to start a new phase in his adventures as a translator. We are still waiting for his new blog to kick off - another road, another destination. In the meantime we have been deprived of his occasional bursts of creativity such as his incredible Mosaics - poems written in three or more languages at one go. My post about Malta's record of laziness and dwarfism reminded the poet of a mosaic of his that he had written shortly before his departure for the Grand Duchy.
It is with great joy that J'Accuse plays host to this work by Twanny in the hope that his life as a sans-blog does not last forever and that he will find a new home on the blogosphere soon. Here it is (English translation follows):
It is with great joy that J'Accuse plays host to this work by Twanny in the hope that his life as a sans-blog does not last forever and that he will find a new home on the blogosphere soon. Here it is (English translation follows):
Ad placitum
Għajjejt, tbażwart, inħxejt, the outside world can wait,
mon lit, le paradis, ma chambre une abîme noire,
hoy, yo soy el cansancio, in-ngħas, il-għażż, sommeil,
tout nu, non reggo più, il-lum jien nibqa' d-dar;
parapett, sigarett, café noir, donne-moi espoir,
my unsleepable brain, an ever-travelling train,
ħedla ta' nofsinhar, le nuvole vagar,
debajo de mis sábanas soy soberano rey.
Piccola grande gioia, questo dolce far niente,
far ventiquattro ore senza storie, senza gente,
jum mitluf, jum mirbuħ, ħa nerġa' nieħu r-ruħ;
j'ai envie de l'ennui, de mettre en pause la vie,
oír la noche inmensa, más inmensa sin ti,
let it roll, rest my soul, patience dans l'azur.
Antoine Cassar
Qrendi, 9 August 2006
Ad placitum
I'm tired, I'm knackered, I'm fucked, the outside world can wait, / my bed, paradise, my room a black abyss, / today, I am fatigue, drowsiness, lazyness, slumber, / stark naked, can't hold out, today I'll stay at home;
parapet, cigarette, café noir, give me hope, / my unsleepable brain, an ever-travelling train, / afternoon torpor, the clouds roving, / underneath my sheets I am the sovereign king.
Small great joy, this sweet doing nothing, / spend twenty-four hours without stories, without people, / a day lost, a day gained, I will pick up again;
I'm in the mood for ennui, for putting life on pause, / hearing the immense night, more immense without you, / let it roll, rest my soul, patience in the azure.
1 commentaire:
Thanks mate. C'est un honneur.
After two years of life as a pseudo-hermit in Qrendi, I have become convinced that laziness is as necessary as bread and water. As always, in moderation.
Today I finished two more mosaics. Once they've settled, I'm looking forward to recording them and putting them on the net.
Mhux ta' b'xejn noqgħod "Bonnevoie" !
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