THE OLD PAIN

A poem that just popped into my head when i was at college a few days ago...

The rain shimmering falls,
the lake is on a roll,
the water laps the stones,
waiting for the knoll.

And then it rings-the bell,
It sounds very queer,
amidst the shattering rain,
and oh the pain- so dear.

It hurts like an old stab,
in pain, and yet at ease,
if I try to make it stop,
it tends to increase...

Then what do I do ?
I let it stay still,
not touching, not teasing,
but pain - and pain, it will...

its not great... but i wrote and saved it on my phone... you can imagine how spur of the moment it was...

24.12.05
The same poem in french.. My french assignment... :) But its not just simply translated, i worked hard on it...

LA DOULEUR ANCIENNE

La pluie brillante est tombe,
Le lac se plie,
L'eau frappe les pierres,
Ils attendent le monticule.

Et alors il sonne – la cloche,
Il semble très étrange,
Parmi la pluie brisée,
Et… oh... la douleur si chère…

Il blesse comme un vieux coup,
En douleur, mais à l'aise,
Si j'essaye de lui faire l'arrêt,
il augmentera…

Qu’est-ce que je ferai?
Je le laisserai rester toujours,
Ne touchant pas, ne taquinant pas,
Mais la douleur – il fera mal….