Katherine Mansfield

Her secret

In the profoundest ocean
There is a rainbow shell,
It is always there, shining most stilly
Under the greatest storm waves
And under the happy little waves
That the old Greek called "ripples of laughter"
And you listen, the rainbow shell
Sings - in the profoundest ocean
It is always there, singing most silently !

bio : http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Katherine_Mansfield

qqs poèmes : http://www.squidoo.com/poetry-by-katherine-mansfield-5

Et c’est alors qu’éclate cet insaisissable instant
Oú, sans l’ombre de l’entendement
Les petites voix du ciel
Résonnent plus fort que la mer toute entière et le vent.

La mer et le vent l’effondrent dans le silence.
Et soupirant, soupirant des doubles sanglots
De doubles contre-basses, folles de bercer
Un bourdonnant accord pour les petites gorges

Les petites gorges qui enchantent et s’épanouissent
Dans la lumière avec une douce félicité
Avec le calme étonnement magique
De s’entendre et de mesurer leur force

La force de ces petites voix ; abeille, mouche,
Feuille qui bruisse, cosse se déchirant
Brise qui moutonne sur les hauts des herbes,
Bruit sec, obsédant de l’insecte.

Traduits par Jean Pierre Le Mée

VOICES OF THE AIR

But then there comes that moment rare

When, for no cause that I can find,
The little voices of the air
Sound above all the sea and wind.

The sea and wind do then obey
And sighing, sighing double notes
Of double basses, content to play
A droning chord for the little throats--

The little throats that sing and rise
Up into the light with lovely ease
And a kind of magical, sweet surprise
To hear and know themselves for these--

For these little voices : the bee, the fly
The leaf that taps, the pod that breaks,
The breeze on the grass-tops bending by,
The shrill quick sound that insect makes.

A Day in bed

I wish I had not got a cold,
The wind is big and wild,
I wish that I was very old,
Not just a little child.

Somehow the day is very long
Just keeping here, alone;
I do not like the big wind's song,
He's growling for a bone

He's like an awful dog we had
Who used to creep around
And snatch at things--he was so bad,
With just that horrid sound.

I'm sitting up and nurse has made
Me wear a woolly shawl;
I wish I was not so afraid;
It's horrid to be small.

It really feels quite like a day
Since I have had my tea;
P'raps everybody's gone away
And just forgotten me.

And oh! I cannot go to sleep
Although I am in bed.
The wind keeps going creepy-creep
And waiting to be fed.