Sunday 8 January 2017

A morning in an Indian village ( Translated into French )

A morning in an Indian village ( Translated into French )
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Dear friends
This is the sixth poem of mine  which has been translated into French by none other than Honourable Athanase Vantchev de Thracy, World President of Poetas del Mundo , undoubtedly one of the greatest poets of contemporary French.
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A morning in an Indian village
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Rising sun in the horizon
a fireball in space
like a bride of first night
blushing and gushing
blossoming sunflowers matching its pace.

Triangle of birds
wave after wave
chirping in symphony
flying in harmony
towards the crescent
a sleeping beauty in space
fading slowly with heavenly grace.

Tillers out in fields
sowing seeds
and hopes for millions
their women bending backs
cutting weeds
small babies crying in shacks
drawing attention to have their feed.

Village children in open space
waiting for initiation
to the world of education
listening to the teacher
with not so rapt attention

Milkmen competing to deliver
small vendors crying hoarse to sell
the sun shines bright on everyone
grandpa has many stories to tell.

Flowing stream creating music for soul
baying cows and rumbling of goat chimes
joining the chorusbeggars with begging bowl
street dogs have no mercy
so none thinks of village security.

Temple, Mosque, Gurudwara and a Church
inviting everyone with open arms
so many faiths
truthful and straight
mornings  in a village has its own charm.
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 Matin dans un village indien


Le soleil se lève à l'horizon,
Boule de feu dans l'espace
Qui fait penser à une épousée
Lors de sa première nuit.
Il rougit et fait s’épanouir
Les tournesols à l’unisson de ses rayons.

Triangles d’oiseaux
Qui, vague après vague, 
Gazouillent en symphonie
Et volent en harmonie
Vers le croissant de la lune,
Beauté endormie dans l'espace
Qui s’évanouit lentement avec une grâce céleste.

Des laboureurs dans les champs
Sèment des graines
Et de l’espoir pour des millions de gens.
Leurs femmes, dos courbé, 
Arrachent les mauvaises herbes.
Les bébés pleurent dans les huttes
Réclamant de quoi manger.

Les enfants du village dans un enclos en plein air,
Attendent à être initiés
Au monde du savoir.
Ils écoutent leur enseignant
Avec une attention un peu distraite.

Les laitiers se font concurrence pour livrer le lait,
Les petits vendeurs font l’article d’une voix rauque, 
Le soleil brille pour tout le monde,
Les grands-pères ont tant d'histoires à raconter.

Un ruisseau coule et répand sa musique dans les âmes,
Le meuglement des vaches et le tintement des clochettes des chèvres
Font chorus.
Les chiens errants harcèlent sans pitié
Les mendiants qui tendent leur sébile
Si bien que personne ne pense
À la sécurité du village.

Temple, mosquée, autel sikh, église,
Invitent chacun à bras ouverts –
Tant de religions
Véridiques et droites,
Le matin au village a un charme bien à lui.

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Translated by Athanase Vantchev de Thracy
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Born on January 3, 1940, in Haskovo, Bulgaria, the extraordinary polyglot culture studied for seventeen years in some of the most popular universities in Europe, where he gained deep knowledge of world literature and poetry.
Athanase Vantchev de Thracy is the author of 32 collections of poetry (written in classic range and free), where he uses the whole spectrum of prosody: epic, chamber, sonnet, bukoliket, idyll, pastoral, ballads, elegies, rondon, satire, agement, epigramin, etc. epitaph. He has also published a number of monographs and doctoral thesis, The symbolism of light in the poetry of Paul Verlaine's. In Bulgarian, he wrote a study of epicurean Petroni writer, surnamed elegantiaru Petronius Arbiter, the favorite of Emperor Nero, author of the classic novel Satirikoni, and a study in Russian titled Poetics and metaphysics in the work of Dostoyevsky.
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