It is raining
And they are shooting
This is not a game
This is a shame
Everyone is afraid
Babies and children are crying
Men and women are very mad
Where everyone is dying
The streets are infested with idiots and bandits
They are our enemies
They are not our friends
They shoot like crazy ants
Bullets fall like raindrops and rice
Gangsters are not nice
They are terrorists
They are bad tourists
They Are robot-criminals
They have no hearts, no minds and no souls
They are eternally ******
Bound for Hell, the infernal dam
Their organs are made of steel and iron
They are not human
Their hands are soaked with blood
They are scoundrels covered with mud
They are the spawns of Satan.

It's Raining
And they are killing
What a **** shame
Amidst all the madness
This is outright sickness
The universe is not at peace
The entire world is at war, in distress
Deep in the dungeon of the cemetery
We don't make deadly weapons
Here
We only have tears, rhymes and songs
At home
We cry everywhere
At home
They make too many weapons elsewhere
Too many people are dying in this madness
Everyone is afraid at home
There is too much misery and unhappiness.

Copyright © November 2024, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.

The smile of a woman in the spring is prettier
Than the dancing glow of the yellow tulips of the pond
As said the other: her face is embellished and polished
With honey syrup. She really has a charming smile.

Oh! Spring, the most beautiful of the four seasons
It's majestic to see her wearing yellow
The color of hope, the pretty color of the harvest
The petals are sparkling in the air and the bells are buzzing.

No, it's not a dream, she's really beautiful
She is wearing a smile that inspires and blemishes
Men who love everything that is gorgeous and classic.

This woman has her hands intertwined on her right thigh
Like a model who is cheered on the runway, which is reserved
For the most beautiful women in the history of our planet.

Copyright © May 2018, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.

Le sourire d'une femme au printemps est plus joli
Que le reflet dansant des tulipes jaunes de l'étang
Comme a dit l'autre: son visage est enjolivé et poli
Avec du sirop de miel. Elle a vraiment un sourire charmant.

Oh! Printemps, la plus belle des quatre saisons
Cela fait grand plaisir de la voir coiffée en jaune
Couleur de l'espoir, jolie couleur de la moisson
Les pétales pétillent dans l'air et les cloches chantonnent.

Non, ce n'est pas un rêve, elle est vraiment magnifique
Elle est vêtue d'un sourire qui inspire et qui fait soupirer
Les hommes qui aiment tout ce qui est beau et classique.

Cette femme a les mains entrelacées sur sa cuisse droite
Comme un mannequin qu'on applaudit sur la piste réservée
Pour les plus belles femmes de l'histoire de notre planète.

P.S. Translation of 'The Radiant Smile Of A Woman' in French.

Copyright © May 2018, Hébert Logerie, Tous droits réservés
Hébert Logerie est l'auteur de plusieurs livres de poésie.

Thank you Almighty Great God for giving US
This extraordinarily blessed and gleeful holiday
The turkeys are being fried, baked or roasted
The cranberry sauce is protected from the snow dust
The children are happy because their stomach
Will be plentifully filled up with healthy food
Cakes and ice cream will put everyone in a great mood
The homeless will be feasting on the deck
Happily sitting around the well garnished table
Like everyone, they dream that every day
Was as special as today, where God’s graces
Are raining gold all over the United States
This is neither a tale nor an imaginary fable
Today feels like payday, today is a joyous day.

The Wednesday before this amazing day
Should be called White Wednesday
Since the day after this day
Is notoriously called Black Friday
Thank you God for this special gift
For this day of hope; it sounds like a myth
No other country celebrates like us
This is truly a blessed day
This is like payday, this is a happy day
We all wish that we had more appetite
We all wish that we could remain light
After so many richly varied and delicious meals
Throw away the scales and the diet pills
For just today, let’s enjoy ourselves
Let’s not worry, and don’t pay attention to our curves.

Copyright © November 24, 2011, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.

I'm neither talking about the turkey
Who’s running for President
Nor the one which is a country
Now embroiled
And roiled in turmoil
I am talking about the huge pheasant
That we all like to fest on the last Thursday
Of November every year, and on New Year’s Day.

I can’t wait to enjoy its thighs and wings
I can’t wait afterwards to make the swings
Squeak and cry, because we all weigh more
Than before: the skinny, the rich and the poor.
Happy Thanksgiving Day everybody
The President already pardoned a gorgeous turkey.

Copyright © November 25, 2015, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.

Toi et moi irons au bord de la mer
Toi et moi fuirons le froid de l’hiver
Pour habiter sur les belles plages
Ou dans les vagues des rivages.

Toi et moi rêverons ensemble chaque soir
Toi et moi vivrons sous les nuages dans le noir
Toi et moi coucherons avec nos oreillers
Sur le sable blanc dans la chaleur de l’été.

Toi et moi parcourrons tout le littoral
Chaque soir nous rêverons à la belle étoile
**** des amis, sous le ciel tropical
Pour voir le départ des chaloupes à voile.

Au bord de la mer, nous vivrons nos vies
Dans la paix, l’harmonie, et **** de la frénésie
Toi et moi vivrons au bord de la mer
Dans l’amour, sous le ciel bleu et clair.

Copyright © Décembre 2019, Hébert Logerie, Tous droits réservés
Hébert Logerie est l'auteur de plusieurs livres de poésie.

C'è il sole
Tuona, piove
È autunno
Dal risveglio al sonno.
Le foglie sono secche e passive
E i fiori morti e inattivi
Più tardi, nevica
I vicini della locanda
Vedono passare il cervo
Tutto il santo giorno
E tutta la sera
Sentiamo che i nervi stanno cambiando
Per dare il benvenuto alla nuova stagione
Dove siamo lontani dal raccolto.

Puoi sentire da molto lontano
Il vento che ronza nel fieno
Le vibrazioni non sono monotone
Poiché i colibrì delle colline
Fanno sentire la loro spettacolare presenza
E i poeti con giardini immaginari
Descrivono tutto ciò che accade
Nella terra dove le masse
Restano insensibili e ignoranti
E dove i funzionari eletti corrotti si vantano.
C'è il sole
Tuona, piove
È autunno
Dal risveglio al sonno.

P.S. Traduzione di “The Ancient Canticles Of Autumn”.
Questa poesia è dedicata ai miei amici e fan italiani.

Copyright © Novembre 2024, Hébert Logerie, Tutti i diritti riservati
Hébert Logerie è autore di numerosi libri di poesia.