The squeal of seagulls
just a mile or so inland
circling above the houses
observing how the other half live
the tidy backyards and
the gardens in disarray
I see the warm glow of sunshine
on bushes and fences
the bare trees scarcely stirred
in the early morning breeze
Much to be thankful for
in this land of plenty
in which there is time
to savour the peace
and make the most
of the love in our lives
John Lyons
Jeanne Duval was the Haitian-born mistress of Charles Baudelaire. She is captured in the portrait (1862) below by Édouard Manet
When, on a warm autumn eve, my eyes closed
I breathe in the fragrance of your warm breast
I see happy shores unfurl before me
lit up by the fires of a monotone sun;
A languorous island where nature produces
Strange trees and luscious fruits;
Men with slender vigorous bodies,
And women who stun with the candour of their eyes.
Led by your fragrance to these charming climates,
I see a port teeming with sails and masts
All wearied still by the sea swell,
While the perfume of green tamarinds,
That drifts in the air and fills my nostrils,
Melds in my soul with the sailors’ songs.
Charles Baudelaire
(translation by John Lyons)
Parfum exotique
Quand, les deux yeux fermés, en un soir chaud d’automne,
Je respire l’odeur de ton sein chaleureux,
Je vois se dérouler des rivages heureux
Qu’éblouissent les feux d’un soleil monotone;
Une île paresseuse où la nature donne
Des arbres singuliers et des fruits savoureux;
Des hommes dont le corps est mince et vigoureux,
Et des femmes dont l’oeil par sa franchise étonne.
Guidé par ton odeur vers de charmants climats,
Je vois un port rempli de voiles et de mâts
Encor tout fatigués par la vague marine,
Pendant que le parfum des verts tamariniers,
Qui circule dans l’air et m’enfle la narine,
Se mêle dans mon âme au chant des mariniers.
— Charles Baudelaire
As the sun sets
so the day sags
evenings can be
so long
stars so distant
and the moon
so fickle
At dawn the silence
is broken – foxes
gnashing their teeth
sparrows restless
in their nests – magpies
already getting down
to business
I have places to go
things to do and
words to say such as
I love you
John Lyons
Alors que le soleil se couche
alors le jour s’affaisse
les soirées peuvent être
si longues
les étoiles si lointaines
et la lune
si inconstante
A l’aube le silence
est cassé – les renards
grincent des dents
les moineaux agités
dans leurs nids – les pies
déjà au travail
j’ai des endroits où aller
des choses à faire et
des mots à dire comme
Je t’aime
Timesickness
loss of gravity
we are all adrift
in space
Forget the puns
it truly is a human race
against the clock
and against the loss
of direction and of
a solidarity with the earth
the land and sea and all
the flora and fauna and
whatever warms the heart
yet does not overheat
the globe but ushers in
a lasting climate of love
John Lyons
Cascade, John Lyons (oil on canvas)
A poetry of familiar things
a sparrow or a rose
or flowering mimosa
a simple summer cotton dress
decorated with flowers
which she wears with pride
The families that traipse
up and down
the Promenade des Anglais
in Nice : the blue sea
and the blue sky
the heat of the day
in August
Chagall and Matisse
and Italian sorbets
and the insatiable thirst
for love and life
John Lyons
Une poésie des choses familières
un moineau ou une rose
ou mimosa en fleurs
une simple robe d’été en coton
décorée de fleurs
qu’elle porte avec fierté
Les familles qui traînent
haut et bas
la Promenade des Anglais
à Nice : la mer bleue
et le ciel bleu
la chaleur du jour
en août
Chagall et Matisse
et des sorbets italiens
et la soif insatiable
d’amour et de vie
After a harsh frost
warm sunshine
casts the world
in a fresh light
the southern wind
moves effortlessly
through the trees
that stand expectantly
clusters of birds
disperse and wheel
in all directions
in the pale grey sky
before returning
to settle once again
on the same treetop
to sing to the same tune
And so I say to her
that we are bound
by all our words
by all our actions
bound as one
in the body of love
that separates and then
again comes together
John Lyons
Things that break
at dawn the day
at mealtimes bread
or when promises
count for nothing
the heart
Shapes and patterns
the fabulous arrangement
of stars in the winter sky
and all that we read
into them
how we befriend them
and look to them
for answers
How did I get to this place
and what will become of me
will I find love and if so
will it remain true
forever and a day ?
Fine filigree of frost
on the window panes
this morning
ferns furred with ice
the excited chatter
of children on their way
to school their warm breath
emerging in the air
Then silence
I am awake in the world
to capture this silence
to carry it with me
to keep it close to my heart
a wordless wisdom
I know that it will serve me well
in good times and in bad
John Lyons
Last night
a clear sky
frost beginning
to form
I raise my eyes
a vast canopy
of stars etched
out of the darkness
Brethren I mutter
under my breath
my warm breath
that hales
from the stars
John Lyons
We are into winter
and it’s early morning
and in the distance
there is sunlight
on the trees reflected
in the leaves that remain
of copper and gold parchment
soon to fall
I wonder about photosynthesis
in the winter months
and what sense the trees
make of their seasonal loss
This morning too
I observed a cat sitting
on a ledge beside a light-
coloured wooden fence –
the cat was adjusting its posture
by studying the clear silhouette
of its shadow on the smooth slats
posing for my photo shoot
It’s the integrity
of the natural world
that I love – how one thing
feeds inevitably into the other
the joined–up writing
that underlies the script
behind the universe in which
love is the fundamental law
John Lyons
