Mots en mouvement /Words on the Move 2008

Traduction du poème "Carnets secrets d'Agathe Brisebois" de Patrick Coppens.
Translation of Patrick Coppens' poem "Carnets secrets d'Agathe Brisebois

Tiffany Paul
Acadia University


The Secret Diaries of Agathe Brisebois
By Patrick Coppens
Translated by Tiffany Paul


I work for eternity,
But in evanescence.

Forms occupying space
Intimate reason of colours

About colours,
Those that pass
Weren't made to last.

The cold of bells, the sled of words

Poetry puts disorder
In my forgotten thoughts

* * * * *

He approaches to ask me the time
I refuse
As he is taken aback, I tell him
Don't worry, she will come.

It was midday
One day, I lived my life,
And the next day, yours.
After that it was finished

“I believe that you are a poet
but you won't find what is essential
unless you contemplate your navel.”
(Max Jacob, letter to Francois Gachot, May 7, 1926)

* * * * *

Don't forget the pictures,
The ones where we danced at Sospel,
At the edge of Merlanson

Summer love
A currant in the head

The mysteries reproduce themselves
Like rabbits. Hat!

“The assembly of illusion and reality
in an object composed of it
Offers us the troubled mirror of our interior.”
(Bernard Noel, Les peintres du désir, 1992)

I like the abstract ideas
In the cracks of reality

* * * * *

Anonymity
Certain days it weighs on me,
Others, it upsets me
I always delight myself just the same
As no one can deprive me.
But when I write, when I draw,
I feel like a queen, flattered by my subjects.

Pleasing exasperates people
Who don't like themselves enough

* * * * *

Style
What can I do?


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