Das Schiff kam wie ein fliegendes Pferd, zu einem ungenauen Zeitpunkt
Unser Matrosenbruder aus dem Pantheon der Dichter war an Bord
Jean Pierre Basilic Dantor Frankétienne D’argent
Der in Eile den letzten Akt schrieb
War zufällig wie durch ein Wunder im Hafen
Er stieg ein und verließ das Schiff, ohne zu sprechen, ohne Geld
Ohne seine Meisterwerke, ohne ein kleines Haus
So ist das Leben, wir verlassen das Schiff zu jeder Jahreszeit.

Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.

Franckétienne ist nicht weg
Er ist irgendwo, in Ravine-Sèche, Haiti, auf den Straßen
Seine Inspiration ist die Show „The Point“
Wir haben keine andere Wahl, als uns zu kümmern
Um seine Erinnerung, seine Erfindung und seine Vorstellungskraft
Franckétienne war ein haitianisches Genie, Dichter, Dramatiker und Spiralist
Kulturminister, Wortschmied, Sänger, Maler und Künstler
Sein Name war ein langer, langer Satz
Und seine Worte brachten die Leute zum Lachen bis zur Ekstase.

Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.

Zu Lebzeiten hatte er sein kleines Haus nicht bekommen
Er war ein legendäres Genie, das die Vorstellungskraft herausforderte
Die Diktatoren, das Gewöhnliche, das Ungewöhnliche und das Abstrakte
Indem er ein Mapou wurde, ein Baobab. Wendell würde sagen
Was für ein Potomitan! Was für eine Kathedrale! Was für eine Zitadelle!
Um den Sohn des Direktors von McDonald's zu paraphrasieren:
„Wenn du fällst, lerne schnell zu reiten.
Dein Fall, lass deinen Fall zu einem Pferd werden, deinem Pferd
Um die Reise fortzusetzen“, den Ausflug.

Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.

„Nach fünfzig zählt jede Minute.“
Frankétienne sagte einmal, da du gehen kannst
Jederzeit, in jedem Moment
‘Galaxy plomb gaillé‘, nicht zu weit vom Nadir entfernt
Eine unsichtbare Spur auf dem Kopf wie bei Valentino oder Tino Rossi
Frankétienne ist nicht mehr, der Künstler ist weg
Er bleibt mehr denn je ein neues Wesen
Der Riese, der Schriftsteller, der Schauspieler, der Schöpfer von Worten
Er ist in Hosenträger gekleidet wie ein großer weißer Neger
Nicht wie ein Monster aus Dr. Frankenstein. Wie ein Gangster
Ein Dieb, das Schiff kam wie ein fliegendes Pferd; es ist der Tod
der uns bedroht, als ob wir im Unrecht wären.
Wir weinen, wir weinen, und wir schreien jetzt wie eine Mutter in Trauer
Für diesen fortgeschrittenen Achtzigjährigen, für diesen Fürsten des Lichts.

Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.

P.S. Eine Hommage an Frankétienne und Familie, an Wendell Théodore
und Gesellschaft, an Radio Métropole und an alle guten Haitianer
Mein aufrichtiges Beileid an alle! Sit ei terra levis!
Dies ist eine Übersetzung von
„Le Navire Est Venu À Cheval, Ou Hommage Au Fameux Poète Frankétienne“
‘The Ship Came Like A Flying Horse or Homage to the Famous Poet Frankétienne’
‘El Barco Llegó Como Un Caballo Volador U Homenaje Al Famoso Poeta Frankétienne’
‘O Navio Chegou Como Um Cavalo Voador Ou Homenagem Ao Famoso Poeta Frankétienne’
‘La Nave Arrivò Come Un Cavallo Volante O Omaggio Al Famoso Poeta Frankétienne’


Copyright © Februar 2025, Hébert Logerie, Alle Rechte vorbehalten.
Hébert Logerie ist Autor mehrerer Gedichtsammlungen.

O navio chegou como um cavalo voador, num momento inexacto
O nosso irmão marinheiro, do Panteão dos Poetas, estava a bordo
Jean Pierre Basilic Dantor Frankétienne D'Argent
Quem escreveu, à pressa, o último ato
Milagrosamente, acabou no porto
Entrou e saiu sem dizer uma palavra, sem dinheiro
Sem as suas obras-primas, sem uma casinha
A vida é assim, viajamos em qualquer altura do ano.

Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.

Frankétienne não foi embora
Está algures, em Ravine-Sèche, no Haiti, nas ruas
A sua inspiração está no espetáculo ‘Le Point’
Não temos escolha a não ser cuidar de nós
Da sua memória, da sua invenção e da sua imaginação
Frankétienne foi um génio haitiano, poeta, dramaturgo e espiralista
Ministro da cultura, escritor, cantor, pintor e artista
O seu nome era uma frase muito, muito longa
E as suas palavras faziam as pessoas rir até ao êxtase.

Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.

Enquanto viveu, não conseguiu que a sua pequena casa
Foi um génio lendário que desafiou a imaginação
Ditadores, o ordinário, o insólito e o abstrato
Tornando-se um mapou, um embondeiro. Wendell diria
Que confusão! Que catedral! Que cidadela!
Parafraseando o filho do diretor da McDonald's
"Se cair, aprenda a levantar-se rapidamente"
A sua queda, deixe que a sua queda se torne um cavalo, o seu cavalo.
Para continuar a viagem", a excursão.

Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.

"Cada minuto conta depois dos cinquenta"
Frankétienne disse uma vez, uma vez que pode ir
A qualquer momento, em qualquer instância
'Galaxy plomb gaillé', não muito longe do nadir
Um traço invisível na cabeça como Valentino ou Tino Rossi
Frankétienne já não está lá, o artista já se foi
Permanece mais do que nunca um novo Ser
O gigante, o escritor, o ator, o escritor
Está vestido com suspensórios como um grande ***** branco
Não como um monstro do Dr. Frankenstein. Como um mafioso
Como um ladrão, o navio era como um cavalo voador. É a morte
Que nos ameaça como se estivéssemos errados
Choramos, choramos agora como uma mãe de luto
Para este octogenário avançado, para este príncipe da luz.

Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.

P.S. Uma homenagem a Frankétienne e à sua família, a Wendell Théodore
E companhia à Rádio Métropole e a todos os bons haitianos.
As minhas mais profundas condolências a todos! Sente-se e deixe a terra voar!
Esta é uma tradução de:
‘Le Navire Est Venu À Cheval Ou Hommage Au Fameux Poète Frankétienne’
‘The Ship Came Like A Flying Horse or Homage to the Famous Poet Frankétienne’
‘El Barco Llegó Como Un Caballo Volador U Homenaje Al Famoso Poeta Frankétienne’
‘La Nave Arrivò Come Un Cavallo Volante O Omaggio Al Famoso Poeta Frankétienne’

Copyright © Fevereiro 2025, Hébert Logerie, Todos os direitos reservados.
Hébert Logerie é autor de várias coletâneas de poemas.

La nave arrivò come un cavallo volante, in un momento inesatto
Il nostro fratello marinaio, del Pantheon dei Poeti, era a bordo
Jean Pierre Basilic Dantor Frankétienne D’Argent
Chi ha scritto, in fretta, l'ultimo atto
Miracolosamente, finì in porto
Entrò e se ne andò senza dire una parola, senza soldi
Senza i suoi capolavori, senza una casetta
La vita è così: ce ne andiamo in qualsiasi momento dell'anno.

Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.

Frankétienne non se n'è andato
È da qualche parte, a Ravine-Sèche, Haiti, per le strade
La sua ispirazione è nello spettacolo "Le Point"
Non abbiamo altra scelta che prenderci cura di noi stessi
Dalla sua memoria, dalla sua invenzione e dalla sua immaginazione
Frankétienne era un genio haitiano, poeta, drammaturgo e spiralista
Ministro della cultura, paroliere, cantante, pittore e artista
Il suo nome era una frase molto, molto lunga
E le sue parole facevano ridere la gente fino all'estasi.

Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.

Mentre era in vita, non aveva ottenuto la sua piccola casa
Era un genio leggendario che sfidava l'immaginazione
Dittatori, l'ordinario, l'insolito e l'astratto
Diventare un mapou, un baobab. Wendell direbbe
Che potomitan! Che cattedrale! Che cittadella!
Parafrasando il figlio del direttore di McDonald's
"Se cadi, impara a rialzarti in fretta"
La tua caduta, lascia che la tua caduta diventi un cavallo, il tuo cavallo.
Per continuare il viaggio", l'escursione.

Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.

"Ogni minuto conta dopo i cinquanta"
Frankétienne una volta disse, dal momento che puoi andare
In qualsiasi momento, in qualsiasi momento
'Galaxy plomb gaillé', non lontano dal nadir
Una traccia invisibile sulla testa come Valentino o Tino Rossi
Frankétienne non c'è più, l'artista se n'è andato
Rimane più che mai un Essere nuovo
Il gigante, lo scrittore, l'attore, il paroliere
È vestito con le bretelle come un grosso ***** bianco
Non come un mostro alla Dr. Frankenstein. Come un mafioso
Come un ladro, la nave era come un cavallo volante. È la morte
Che ci minaccia come se avessimo torto
Piangiamo, piangiamo ora come una madre in lutto
Per questo ottantenne avanzato, per questo principe della luce.

Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.

P.S. Un omaggio a Frankétienne e alla sua famiglia, a Wendell Théodore
E compagnia, a Radio Métropole e a tutti i buoni Haitiani.
Le mie più sentite condoglianze a tutti! Siediti e lascia che la terra voli!
Questa è una traduzione di:
‘Le Navire Est Venu À Cheval Ou Hommage Au Fameux Poète Frankétienne’
‘The Ship Came Like A Flying Horse or Homage to the Famous Poet Frankétienne’

Copyright © Febbraio 2025, Hébert Logerie, Tutti i diritti riservati.
Hébert Logerie è autore di diverse raccolte di poesie.

El barco llegó como un caballo volador, en un momento inexacto
Nuestro hermano marinero, del Panteón de los Poetas, estaba a bordo
Jean Pierre Basilic Dantor Frankétienne D’Argent
Quién escribió, apresuradamente, el último acto
Pasó milagrosamente a estar en el puerto
Subió y se fue sin hablar, sin dinero
Sin sus obras maestras, sin una casita
Así es la vida, nos vamos en cualquier época del año.

Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.

Frankétienne no se ha ido
Está en algún lugar, en Ravine-Sèche, Haití, en las calles
Su inspiración está en el show de ‘Le Point’
No tenemos más remedio que cuidarnos
De su memoria, su invención y su imaginación
Frankétienne fue un genio Haitiano, poeta, dramaturgo y espiralista
Ministro de cultura, creador de palabras, cantante, pintor y artista
Su nombre era una frase muy, muy larga
Y sus palabras hicieron reír a la gente hasta el éxtasis.

Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.

Mientras vivió, no había conseguido su casita
Fue un genio legendario que desafió la imaginación
Los dictadores, lo ordinario, lo inusual y lo abstracto
Convirtiéndose en un mapou, un baobab. Wendell diría
¡Qué potomitan! ¡Qué catedral! ¡Qué ciudadela!
Parafraseando al hijo del director de McDonald's
"Si te caes, aprende a montar rápidamente
Tu caída, deja que tu caída se convierta en un caballo, tu caballo
Para continuar el viaje", la excursión.

Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.

"Cada minuto cuenta después de los cincuenta"
Una vez dijo Frankétienne, ya que puedes marcharte
En cualquier momento, en cualquiera instancia
'Galaxy plomb gaillé', no muy lejos del nadir
Un rastro invisible en la cabeza como Valentino o Tino Rossi
Frankétienne ya no está, el artista se ha ido
Sigue siendo más que nunca un Ser nuevo
El gigante, el escritor, el actor, el creador de palabras
Está vestido con tirantes como un gran ***** blanco
No como un monstruo del Dr. Frankenstein. Como un mafioso
Como un ladrón, el barco era como un caballo volador. Es la muerte
Que nos amenaza como si estuviéramos equivocados
Lloramos, lloramos ahora como una madre de luto
Para este octogenario avanzado, para este príncipe de la luz.

Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.

P.D. Un homenaje a Frankétienne y su familia, a Wendell Théodore
Y compañía, a Radio Métropole y a todos los buenos Haitianos.
¡Mi más sentido pésame a todos! ¡Sit ei terra levis!
Esta es una traducción de:
‘Le Navire Est Venu À Cheval Ou Hommage Au Fameux Poète Frankétienne’
‘The Ship Came Like A Flying Horse or Homage to the Famous Poet Frankétienne’

Copyright © febrero de 2025, Hébert Logerie, Todos los derechos reservados.
Hébert Logerie es autor de varias colecciones de poemas.

The ship came like a flying horse, at an inexact time
Our brother-sailor, from the Pantheon of Poets, was on board
Jean Pierre Basilic Dantor Frankétienne D’argent
Who wrote, in haste, the last act
Happened to be miraculously on the port
He got on and left without speaking, without money
Without his masterpieces, without a little house
That’s life, we leave at any season.

Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.

Franckétienne is not gone
He is somewhere, in Ravine-Sèche, Haiti, in the streets
His inspiration is in the show of ‘the Point’
We have no choice but to take care
Of his memory, his invention and his imagination
Franckétienne was a Haitian genius, poet, playwright, and spiralist
Minister of culture, wordsmith, singer, painter and artist
His name was a long, long sentence
And his words made people laugh until ecstasy.

Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.

While alive, he had not obtained his little house
He was a legendary genius who defied the imagination
The dictators, the ordinary, the unusual and the abstract
By becoming a mapou, a baobab. Wendell would say
What a potomitan! What a cathedral! What a citadel!
To paraphrase the son of the director of McDonald's
"If you happen to fall, learn to ride quickly
Your fall, let your fall become a horse, your horse
To continue the journey", the excursion.

Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.

"Every minute counts after fifty"
Once said Frankétienne, since you can leave
At any time, at any moment
'Galaxy plomb gaillé', not too far from the nadir
An invisible trail on the head like Valentino or Tino Rossi
Frankétienne is no more, the artist is gone
He remains more than ever a new Being
The giant, the writer, the actor, the creator of words
He is dressed in suspenders like a big white *****
Not like a monster from Dr. Frankenstein. Like a mobster
A thief, the ship came like a flying horse; it is death
That threatens us as if we are wrong
We weep, cry now like a mother in mourning
For this advanced octogenarian, for this prince of light.

Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.

P.S. A Tribute to Franckétienne and family, to Wendell Théodore
And company, to Radio Métropole and to all good Haitians.
My sincere condolences to all! Sit ei terra levis!
This is a translation of
‘Le Navire Est Venu À Cheval, Ou Hommage Au Fameux Poète Frankétienne’

Copyright © February 2025, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.

Le navire est venu à cheval, à une heure inexacte
Notre frère-matelot, du Panthéon  des Poètes, était à son bord
Jean Pierre Basilic Dantor Frankétienne D’argent
Qui écrivait, à la hâte, le dernier acte
Se trouvait par hasard, miraculeusement sur le port
Il est monté, il est parti sans parler, sans argent
Sans ses chefs d’œuvre, sans une petite maison
C’est la vie, on part à toute saison.

Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.

Franckétienne n’est pas disparu
Il est quelque part, à Ravine-Sèche,  dans les rues
Son inspiration est dans ‘l’émission le Point’
Nous n’avons pas d’autres choix que de prendre soin
De sa mémoire, se son invention et de son imagination
Franckétienne était un génie Haïtien, poète, dramaturge, spiraliste
Ministre de la culture, faiseur de mots, chanteur, peintre et artiste
Son nom était une longue phrase
Et ses paroles faisaient rire jusqu'à l’extase.

Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.


De son vivant, il n’avait pas obtenu sa petite maison
C’était un génie légendaire qui a défié l’imagination
La dictature, l’ordinaire, l’inordinaire et l’abstraction
En devenant un mapou, un baobab. Dirait Wendell
Quel potomitan! Quelle cathédrale! Quelle citadelle!
Pour paraphraser le fils du directeur de Mac Donald
« S’il arrive que tu tombes, apprends vite à chevaucher
Ta chute, que ta chute devienne un cheval, ton cheval
Pour continuer le voyage », la randonnée.

Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.

« Chaque minute compte après cinquante ans »
Disait Franckétienne, puisqu’on peut partir
A n’importe quelle heure, à n’importe quel instant
‘Galaxie plomb gaillé’, pas trop **** du nadir
Une trace invisible sur la tète à la Valentino ou à la Tino Rossi
Frankétienne s’en est allé, l’artiste est parti
Il demeure plus que jamais un Être nouveau
Le géant, l’écrivain, le comédien, le créateur des mots
Est habillé en bretelle comme un gros blanc nègre
Pas comme un monstre de Dr. Frankenstein. Comme une pègre
Le navire est venu à cheval, c’est la mort
Qui nous menace comme si nous avions tort
Nous pleurons maintenant comme la mère
Pour cet octogénaire avancé, pour ce prince de lumière.

Kalfou te kindeng miwo, miba ye.

P.S. Un Hommage à Franckétienne et famille, à Wendell Théodore
Et compagnie,  à Radio Métropole et à tous  les Haïtiens conséquents.
J’offre mes sincères condoléances à tous. Sit ei terra levis!

Copyright © Février 2025, Hébert Logerie, Tous droits réservés
Hébert Logerie est l'auteur de plusieurs recueils de poésie.

Après une longue et pénible absence
Sans toi
Après tant de sacrifices et de désobéissance
Sans toi
Où je suis sur la croix
Après tant d’années, sans ta présence
Où mon cœur, mon âme, mon spleen et mon foie
Ne sont plus les mêmes
Ma chérie, ma vie, mon amour
Enfin, tu es avec moi, tu es de retour
Plus que jamais : je t’aime et je t’aime
Je lève la tête pour regarder le Majestueux Ciel Bleu
Où je vois le chemin du bonheur
Tu sais fort bien que je demande peu
Pour la Saint Valentin, j’ai des fleurs et mon doux cœur
Pour toi mon amour, ma tendre femme
Écoute les vibrations symphoniques de mon âme
Je ne peux plus vivre sans toi
Aujourd’hui, je me sens bien avec toi.

Copyright © Février 2025, Hébert Logerie, Tous droits réservés
Hébert Logerie est l'auteur de plusieurs livres de poésie.

Chocolates, hearts and flowers are ubiquitous in the markets or stores
It is like a frenzy storm, like heavy raindrops rushing through the gutters
I am told at the big mall, it’s like Christmas Eve, where procrastinators
Are buying boxes of chocolate, flowers, candies of all kinds and colors
Candles, jewelries, intimate pajamas, and **** accessories for loved ones
Wow! Love must really be in the air or something different is quaffing
The oxygen, which is necessary and essential for our survivals. Something
Is in the fresh air, where the moon is full and craziness makes no sense
In this fascinating world, where babies are slaughtered and innocent victims
Are cursed, beaten, jailed and killed: I ponder and wonder. They don’t care
It’s is a show of tradition, not a show of unconditional love. I cannot bare
Not to say anything about what I’m witnessing and living. Bad dreams
Endure; they don’t last. Nightmares see the devil in the dark in your bedroom
I guess, hope and pray that Saint Valentine can improve the current events
Yet, I am afraid of the hypocrisy, which behaves like evil rats and pesky ants
Yes, I am confused, shocked and bewildered by so much extravagance for only one day
I write and pray that true love rains and reigns, and tolerance shines on Valentine’s day.

Copyright © February 13, 2025, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.

I love, I love
Yes, I love to love
Like a genius in deep love
Like a fool in sick love
I love like no one ever loves
Like I love watching the doves
Drifting up and down in the sky
Below and above the clouds
Whether the weather is wet or dry
Below and far from the shrouds.

It is not a mistake to love
I don’t love just for Valentine
I love every single day and that’s fine
It is an incredible experience
Coming straight from above
Yet, there’s no obvious difference
Like a genius in sick love
Like a fool in deep love
I love, I love
Yes, I love to love.


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

I loved the poem that you gave me,
Dear beloved, for Valentine's Day
Oh! My goodness, that was ****.
That was hot, romantic and gay.

I loved the poem that you sent me,
To express your deepest feelings.
I also loved the flowers and the rings,
That you gave me for eternity.

I never knew that you were a Poet.
You shocked me with your lovely words.
You made me happy; it was like we just met.

Love can externalize exceptional emotions,
And expressions that are as sharp as deadly swords.
I also loved the kisses, the candies and the carnations.

Copyright © February 10, 2016, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.

The romantic accolades
The tropical kool-aids
The seductive smiles
The inimitable styles
Baby, it's Valentine
Every day that we encounter
Girl, you look fine
Like an exquisite flower.

You electrify my whole body
From head to toes, every time I see
You snapping your fingers, my heart
Beats profusely. It's magic. It's science. It's art
You are a masterpiece, a virtuoso
You drive me crazy, you drive me loco
You are a fine wine
You have a gorgeous body
Baby, It's Valentine
And you're as sassy as a Lilly.

Every time we meet
I melt; I fall at your feet
Baby, it's Valentine
Girl, you look so fine
Like a super-model
You're stylish, and beautiful
You electrify my entire body
You look incredibly foxy
Honey, it's Valentine
And you're naturally divine.

Copyright © February 13, 2016 Logerie Hébert, All Rights Reserved
Hebert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.

C'est ta fête, je vais te célébrer,
Te contempler et te lorgner.
Je vais admirer ta couleur et ta peau,
Du matin jusqu'à la tombée des rideaux.

Je vais inhaler ta beauté,
Et me nourrir de ton arome.
Je vais larmoyer ma fidélité,
En t'offrant mon cœur et mes pommes.

Quand la ville sera parfumée
Après l'angélus, je saisirai mon flambeau
Pour continuer à t'encenser
Jusqu'à minuit où l'air restera pur et beau.

Tu seras naturellement fanée alors;
Je te voilerai de baisers d'amour et d'or.
Comblé et lassé, je te classerai dans mon portefeuille,
Parmi les plus jolies et distinguées feuilles.

C'est ta fête, tu es mon corps aujourd'hui.
Ecoute l'écho mélodieux des trompettes angéliques;
Le monde entier chantonne les plus mémorables cantiques
De l'heure sous les étoiles pétillantes de la nuit.

Copyright© February,2012, Hebert Logerie, All Rights Reserved

J'adore le mois de février,
Le mois le plus court et le plus froid de la saison,
Pour toute une série d’étranges raisons.
Et pourtant, on a l'impression que février est le mois le plus long,
Pour les événements qui se produisent au hasard,
Au milieu des tempêtes  perfides et hivernales
Presque tout est gelé et solide près de la nichée
Des aigles américains à tête blanche,
Sauf les masques de Mardi Gras sous les planches.

Février est la saison de l'amour,
Le mois de la Saint Valentin,
Une crique paradisiaque par excellence,
Où les amoureux se réfugient. Pur, immaculé,
Neigeux, court, sombre et charmant ; Février est
Maintenant le mois de célébration de l'histoire des Noirs,
On se demande comment et pourquoi
Nous obtenons le plus court. C'est une autre histoire
Que nous devrions laisser aux mouettes nomades
Pour déchiffrer. Pas de baigneurs sur les plages de sable,
Sauf quelques oiseaux perchés sur les pauvres branches,
**** des berceaux des pygargues à tête blanche.

Février est un mois de contraste kaléidoscopique,
Là où les chutes de neige se produisent d’une façon typique,
Et où les amoureux fous rêvent de chaleur sous un paradis
Plein d’espoir, d’amour, de beauté,  de glace et de pluie.

Copyright © Janvier 2022, Hébert Logerie, Tous droits réservés.
Hébert Logerie est l'auteur de plusieurs recueils de poèmes.

Feliz dia dos namorados, amigos
É dia de cuidar uns dos outros
E dar as mãos
A amizade importa, o amor importa
As flores também são importantes, irmãos e irmãs
Por favor, não fique muito zangado
Porque o céu não é azul nem branco
Vamos aproveitar o orvalho da manhã
Por favor, não fique tão triste
Vamos aproveitar o tempo frio e soalheiro
Há neve aqui e ali, mas no canto
É primavera com ar fresco e um ramo de flores
A amizade importa, o amor importa
Há lampejos de fogo de amor no ar
Vamos aproveitar a época de amor, paz e cuidado
É tempo de caminhar felizes de mãos dadas
Juntos caminharemos, juntos permaneceremos de pé.

P.S. Este poema é dedicado a todos os amantes do mundo.
Copyright © Janeiro 2025, Hébert Logerie, Todos os direitos reservados.
Hébert Logerie é autor de várias coletâneas de poemas.

Amo el mes de febrero
El mes más corto y más frío de la temporada
Por una serie de razones personales
Y, sin embargo, parece que es el más largo
Por los eventos que suceden al azar
En medio de traicioneras ráfagas de tormenta invernal
Casi todo está congelado y sólido cerca del nido
De las águilas calvas americanas
Excepto las máscaras de Mardi Gras bajo los estruendos.

Febrero es la temporada del amor
El mes de San Valentín
Una cala paradisíaca por excelencia
Donde los amantes se refugian. Puro, prístino,
Nevado, corto, oscuro y hermoso; ahora es
El mes de celebración de la historia negra
Uno se pregunta por qué y cómo
Obtenemos el más corto. Es otra historia
Que deberíamos dejar que las gaviotas nómadas
Descifren. No hay bañistas en las playas de arena
Solo algunos pájaros posados en las ramas
Lejos de las cunas de las águilas calvas.

Febrero es un mes de contrastes caleidoscópicos
Donde las nevadas son frecuentes
Y los amantes incondicionales sueñan con el calor de un cielo
Lleno de esperanza, amor, belleza y hielo.

Copyright © enero de 2022, Hébert Logerie, Todos los derechos reservados.
Hébert Logerie es autor de varios poemarios.

I love the month of February,
The shortest and coldest month of the season,
For an array of personal reasons.
And yet, it feels like Feb is the longest,
For the events that happen haphazardly,
Amidst treacherous winter storm blasts.
Quasi everything is frozen and solid near the nest
Of the American bald eagles,
Except the Mardi Gras masks under the rumbles.

February is the season of love,
The month of Saint Valentine,
A quintessential paradise cove,
Where lovers take refuge. Pure, Pristine,
Snowy, short, Pure, dark, and lovely; Feb is now
The celebratory month of Black history,
One wonders why and how
We get the shortest one. It's another story
That we should let the nomad seagulls
Decipher. No bathers on the sandy beaches,
Solely, a few birds are perched on the branches,
Far away from the cribs of the bald eagles.

February is a month of a kaleidoscopic contrast,
Where snowfalls happen quite often,
And ******* lovers dream warmth under a heaven
Full of hope, love, beauty, and ice.

Copyright © January 2022, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.

Joyeuse fête de la Saint-Valentin, chers amis
C’est le jour où il faut prendre soin les uns des autres
Et où il faut se donner la main
L’amitié compte, l’amour compte
La famille compte, le savoir vivre compte
Les fleurs comptent aussi, frères et sœurs
Ne soyez pas trop en colère
Parce que le ciel n’est pas bleu
Profitons de la rosée du matin
Ne soyez pas trop tristes
Profitons du temps froid et ensoleillé
Il y a de la neige ici et là, mais au coin de la rue
C’est le printemps avec de l’air frais et un bouquet de fleurs
L’amitié compte, l’amour compte
Il y a des étincelles de feu d’amour dans l’air
Profitons de la saison de l’amour, de la paix et des soins
C’est le moment de marcher joyeusement main dans la main
Ensemble nous nous promènerons, ensemble nous nous lèverons.

P.S. Traduction de «  Joyous St. Valentine’s Day » par Hébert Logerie.
Ce poème est dédié à tous les amoureux du monde.
Copyright © Janvier 2025, Hébert Logerie, Tous droits réservés.
Hébert Logerie est l’auteur de plusieurs recueils de poèmes.

Feliz festa de São Valentim, queridos amigos
É dia de cuidar uns dos outros
E onde devemos dar as mãos
A amizade importa, o amor importa
A familia importa, as boas maneiras são importantes
E as flores também importam, irmãos e irmãs
Não fique muito zangado
Porque o céu não é azul
Vamos aproveitar o orvalho da manhã
Não fique tão triste
Vamos aproveitar o tempo frio e soalheiro
Há neve aqui e ali, mas mesmo ali ao virar da esquina
É primavera com ar fresco e um ramo de flores
A amizade importa, o amor importa
Há faíscas de fogo de amor no ar
Vamos aproveitar a época de amor, paz e cuidado
É tempo de caminhar felizes de mãos dadas
Juntos caminharemos, juntos nos ergueremos.

P.S. Tradução de “Joyous St. Valentine’s Day” de Hébert Logerie.
P.S. Este poema é dedicado a todos os amantes do mundo.
Copyright © Janeiro 2025, Hébert Logerie, Todos os direitos reservados.
Hébert Logerie é autor de várias coletâneas de poemas.

Buon San Valentino, cari amici.
È il giorno per prendersi cura l'uno dell'altro
E dove dobbiamo tenerci per mano
L'amicizia è importante, l'amore è importante
La famiglia è importante, le buone maniere sono importanti
E anche i fiori sono importanti, fratelli e sorelle
Non essere troppo arrabbiato
Perché il cielo non è blu
Godiamoci la rugiada del mattino
Non essere troppo triste
Godiamoci il clima freddo e soleggiato
C'è neve qua e là, ma è dietro l'angolo
È primavera con aria fresca e un mazzo di fiori
L'amicizia è importante, l'amore è importante
Ci sono scintille di fuoco d'amore nell'aria
Godiamoci la stagione dell'amore, della pace e della cura
È tempo di camminare felicemente mano nella mano
Insieme cammineremo, insieme ci solleveremo.

P.S. Traduzione di “Joyous Saint Valentine’s Day” di Hébert Logerie.
Questa poesia è dedicata a tutti gli innamorati del mondo.
Copyright © gennaio 2025, Hébert Logerie, Tutti i diritti riservati.
Hébert Logerie è autore di diverse raccolte di poesie.

Feliz día de San Valentín, amigos y amigas
Es el día de cuidarnos unos a otros
Y donde debemos tomarnos de la mano
La amistad importa, el amor importa
La familia importa, los modales importan
Y las flores también importan, hermanos y hermanas
No te enojes demasiado
Porque el cielo no es azul
Disfrutemos del rocío de la mañana
No estés demasiado triste
Disfrutemos del clima frío y soleado
Hay nieve aquí y allá, pero a la vuelta de la esquina
Es primavera con aire fresco y un ramo de flores
La amistad importa, el amor importa
Hay chispas de fuego de amor en el aire
Disfrutemos de la temporada de amor, paz y cuidado
Es hora de caminar felices de la mano
Juntos caminaremos, juntos nos levantaremos.

P.D. Traducción de “Joyous Saint Valentine’s Day” de Hébert Logerie.
Este poema está dedicado a todos los enamorados del mundo.
Copyright © enero de 2025, Hébert Logerie, Todos los derechos reservados.
Hébert Logerie es autor de varias colecciones de poemas.

Happy Valentine’s Day, my friends
‘Tis the day to care for each other and to join hands
Friendship matters, love matters
Family matters, good manners matter
And flowers matter too, brothers and sisters
Please do not be too mad
Because the sky is not blue
Let’s enjoy the morning dew
Please do not be too sad
Let’s enjoy the cold sunny weather
There’s snow here and there, but at the corner
Is spring with fresh air and a bundle of flowers
Friendship matters, love matters
There are sparkles of fire of love in the air
Let’s enjoy the season of love, peace and care
‘Tis the moment to walk happily hand in hand
Together we shall stroll, together we shall stand.

P.S. This poem is dedicated to the lovers of the world.
Copyright © January 2025, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.

Believe it or not
The Parson is right
We shall return with zeroes
Many zeroes.  Let’s be Heroes
For and to the world. Let’s not be selfish
Because we shall return with zilch
With nada, mit nichts, perhaps with empty zeroes
Which mean nothing. Let’s pause
To think. Let’s be wise and humble
Love is essential. When the trees tremble
And fall; when the ground shakes and burns
When the soil slithers and slides, the world yearns
For peace, sympathy, compassion, and love. With nothing
We shall return, just like we came on earth with nothing
The sky will always stare at us, as we raise our head
Heaven will remain at the same distance
And we shall leave alone, with nothing, with no bed
No castle, no money, no power and no incense
Believe it or not
We will be blessed to be in a wee lot
After the soul departs
And the ash rots
Believe it or not
The Poet is right.

P.S. This poem is dedicated to the kings of the world.
Copyright © January 2025, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.

Pendant les jours les plus froids de l’hiver fou
Pensez à un printemps divin et rêvez d'un été doux
Pendant les heures les plus dures de la nuit hibernale
Pensez aux fleurs inouïes et rêvez d'un agréable soleil.

La saison arrive, persiste, puis s'enfuit, à l’aide de ses ailes
La vie traverse des événements cycloïdaux comme les abeilles
Comme les rayons d’une lune dansant autour de la Mère Nature
Afin de l'enchanter, de l’enchérir et de l'embrasser très dure.

Au milieu du profond hiver, pensez à un printemps sensationnel
Et rêvez à des jours d'été lumineux, éclatants et exceptionnels
Ne vous sentez jamais sans espoir et pessimistes à propos de rien.

Des meilleures journées et des nuits glorieuses font du bien
Restez positifs, actifs, accueillants et résilients tant que votre tête
Est présente. Pensez et rêvez aux rayons de soleil et de fêtes.

P.S. Traduction de: ‘Thinking Of A Divine’ par Hébert Logerie.

Copyright © Janvier 2025, Hébert Logerie, Tous droits réservés
Hébert Logerie est l'auteur de plusieurs recueils de poésie.

If you stand strongly with and for Liberty
I will fearlessly join you
If you stand firmly for Freedom
I will cheer the noble gestures of your kingdom
If you stand enthusiastically for Equality
I will ecstatically stand with you too
If you stand for good democracy
I will help you spread the seeds of Love
I will happily clap when the doves are hovering above
If you stand solidly for fair and equal justice
I will help you ring the bells of peace
I will fervently pray for you all the time
I will sporadically listen to the tintinnabulation of the chime
Brothers and sisters, I have tears of hope in my eyes today
Otherwise
My pen is able and ready amidst the fray
And it won’t be so wise
Because I love my fellow human beings, our people
Who are black, red, white, yellow and purple.

P.S. This poem is dedicated to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., and to our brothers and sisters.
Copyright © January 2025, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.

I have never seen an ugly flower
Flowers are always full of grandeur
Flowers are known to be beautiful
All the time, that's stupendously wonderful
All flowers speak a beautiful language
That we all fully comprehend. In this day and age
Everybody is yearning to hear the voice of love
The voice of a symphony coming from above
Yes, everybody loves the language of the flowers
It is a language, a sound of joy between lovers
And friends. Love is at the center of everything
Please keep on dreaming, please keep on speaking
The language of the flowers, the language of all colors
The dialect of the epicureans, the language of all lovers
I only see beautiful flowers in spring, fall, summer and winter
One flower has the power to improve the mood of a lover
Bring a flower to a lover, I guarantee you that you'll be happy
Keep on speaking the language of the flowers to spread unity
Love, respect, peace and the incredible fondness that we all need
Flowers do not discriminate or use foul words. Lead and feed
Inspire and incense the world with the perfume of the flowers
With the aroma of a stylish language and exquisite manners.

Copyright © August 2019, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.

Never, never tell a good Poet what to write about
Or what to say. The Poet always tries to be right
To be on the good and the best side of history
The Poet does not express himself for glory.

The Poet believes in justice, equality and opportunity
For everyone on the Planet. The Poet is free
Free; free to say it as it is. The Poet is naturally
Very calm, thoughtful, and acts accordingly.

The Poet is the conscience of the humanity
The Poet is a truth teller, a great story teller
The Poet fights for the underprivileged of the society
The Poet wants love, peace, and justice ring in every corner.

To be a poet is a gift from God so as not to be afraid
To write or put on paper the content of his/her soul and heart
The Poet gets up very early or sometimes goes to bed
Very late to parley with the Muse, who is very bright.

Never, never dictate a great Poet what to write
The Poet is perpetually at the service of humanity
The Poet is not afraid to fight for freedom, equality
Fairness and peace for all. The Poet learns to be right.

P.S. This poem is dedicated to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., a Freedom Fighter.
Happy Birthday to you, my Brother and Hero!
Copyright © January 2023, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.

Dr. Martin's dream is a dream for many generations
Past, present and future… Life is about hope, compassion
Love, freedom and justice. It's not asking for too much
Because human lives are precious and priceless. As such
We were all created in the same manners. No one got
More, no one deserved less. There are three levels in the lot
Birth, live and death. We all must go through the same process
Health is paramount and wealth is secondary or temporary
We all will leave earth one day, soon. Hoping we're all blessed
To remain on earth for a long time. A dream is a reality
That will or will not come depending on the dedication
On the focus and on the resiliency of the participants
We all dream for a better future for our families, friends
Even for perceived enemies. Hope is in the air, like flying ants
Wishing to land on a fertile sugar cane field. Dr. King, our Hero
Is a man with many names: Dr. Martin, Dr. King, a great fighter
An activist, a superman, a martyr, etc. He was the older brother
That we dream of being with us in time of trouble, at a low
Point of our lives. Dr. King was an amazing inspiration to a world
Filled with backstabbers, hypocrites, racists, maniacs and criminals
Dr. King's dream is well and alive for many generations. Animals
Will never rule the universe. Human beings cannot be obviously curled
By a bunch of so-called right wing individuals. Common sense will
Always prevail. Love will always win. The racists and the haters ‘will
Shall fail. Positive attitudes will always win. Brother Martin's dream
Will live forever. All men and women were created to enjoy the ice cream
Equally, to be free to fight against unfairness, selfishness, racism, bigotry
And injustice. Dr. King's dream and inspiration will live forever, for eternity.

P.S. I write what I want to write about and say what I want to say.
I am a free man.

Copyright © January 2020, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry collections.

Fuego, fuego, innumerables fuegos
Fuego de odio que nadie admira
Fuego que hiere, mutila y mata a víctimas inocentes
Fuego que quema, incinera y destruye muchos edificios
Fuego que se utiliza mal
Fuego que se dilata
Los países, con más potencia de fuego, dirigen los negocios
Un gánster con un fuego pesado es utilizado como una idiota
Como un instrumento mortal o herramienta para intimidar
Para asesinar y para eliminar enemigos potenciales
Fuegos de odio, fuegos del infierno que matan familias
Fuego, fuegos, incendios incontrolables en el mar
Fuego, incendios naturales en California
Fuego, incendios mortales en Gaza
Más fuego, más poder, más poder de fuego
Más poder, más fuego y más poder inusual
Fuego en la cocina para cocinar comida gourmet, cena deliciosa
A la hora del cóctel elegante
Ese es mi tipo de fuego, ese es buen fuego
¡Fuego, fuego y alto el fuego! Todos aborrecen la guerra
Porque la guerra es odio, la guerra es el infierno en el bar
La guerra no es más que un fuego maligno
La guerra no es un juego. La guerra no es natural
La guerra es un desastre. La guerra es un infierno creado por el hombre
La guerra es un desperdicio de vidas y recursos humanos
Más agua para matar todos los incendios y todas las fuentes
El mundo necesita fuego bueno para proteger el medio ambiente
El mundo quiere paz en todo el continente
Dios creó Un Mundo, Un Pueblo y Una Raza
Y el hombre inventó la división y muchas razas en este espacio
El hombre creó el nepotismo, el dinero, el odio, la envidia, la discriminación
El terrorismo, el color, la avaricia, la traición, el sufrimiento y la corrupción
¡Fuego, fuego, alto el fuego! Necesitamos lluvia, más agua para apagar el fuego
Necesitamos Amor para aniquilar el odio y más amor para descharchar
A los líderes malvados que están destruyendo nuestro Mundo, nuestro Universo
Queremos Paz y fuego bueno para nuestro Mundo, para Nuestro Universo.

Copyright © enero de 2025, Hébert Logerie, Todos los derechos reservados
Hébert Logerie es autor de varios libros de poesía.

Feu, feux, d'innombrables incendies
Feu de haine que personne n'admire
Feu qui blesse, mutile et tue des victimes innocentes
Feu qui brûle, incinère et détruit de nombreux bâtiments
Feu qui est mal utilisé
Feu qui est diffusé
Les pays avec plus de puissance de feu gouvernent
Un gangster avec un feu lourd est utilisé comme un ignorant
Comme un instrument ou un outil mortel pour intimider
Pour tuer, assassiner et éliminer des ennemis potentiels
Feux de haine, feux de l'enfer qui tuent des familles
Feu, feux, incendies incontrôlables sur l’océan
Feu, feux naturels en Californie
Feu, feux mortels à Gaza
Plus de feu, plus de puissance, plus de puissance de feu
Plus de puissance, plus de feu et plus de puissance en feu
Feu dans la cuisine pour cuisiner des plats gastronomiques
Des dîners délicieux, à l'heure du cocktail chic
C'est mon genre de feu, c'est du bon feu
Feu, feux et cessez-le-feu ! Tout le monde abhorre la guerre
Parce que la guerre est la haine, la guerre est l'enfer
La guerre n'est rien d'autre qu'un feu maléfique
La guerre n'est pas un jeu. La guerre n'est pas naturelle
La guerre est un désastre. La guerre est un enfer créé par l'homme
La guerre est un gaspillage de vies et de ressources humaines
Plus d'eau pour éteindre tous les incendies et toutes les sources
Le monde a besoin d'un bon feu pour protéger l'environnement
Le monde veut la paix sur tout le continent
Dieu a créé un monde, un peuple et une race
Et l'homme a inventé la division et de nombreuses races dans cet espace
L'homme a créé le népotisme, l'argent, la haine, l'envie, la discrimination
Le terrorisme, la couleur, la cupidité, la trahison, la souffrance et la corruption
Feu, feux! Nous avons besoin de pluie, de plus d'eau pour éteindre le feu
Nous avons besoin d'amour pour anéantir la haine et de plus d'amour pour sacquer
Les dirigeants maléfiques qui détruisent Notre Monde, Notre Univers
Nous voulons la paix et un bon feu pour Notre Monde, pour Notre Univers.

P.S. Traduction de : «  Fire, Fires, Ceasefire » par Hébert Logerie.

Copyright © Janvier 2025, Hébert Logerie, Tous droits réservés
Hébert Logerie est l'auteur de plusieurs recueils de poésie.

Fire, fire, countless fires
Fire of hate that nobody admires
Fire that hurts, maims and kills and innocent victims
Fire that burns, cremates and destroys many buildings
Fire that is misused
Fire that is diffused
Countries with more firepower rule
A gangster with a heavy fire is used as a fool
As a deadly instrument or tool to bully
To ****** and to eliminate potential enemies
Fires of hate, fires of hell that **** families
Fire, fires, uncontrollable fires on the sea
Fire, natural fires in California
Fire, deadly fires in Gaza
More fire, more power, more firepower
More power, more fire and more back-asswards power
Fire in the kitchen to cook gourmet food, delicious dinner
At the fancy cocktail hour
That’s my kind of fire, that’s good fire
Fire, fire, and ceasefire! Nobody wants war
Because war is hate, war is hell at the bar
War is nothing but an evil fire
War is not a game. War is not natural
War is a disaster. War is a man-made hell
War is a waste of human lives and resources
More water to **** all of fires and all sources
The world needs good fire to protect the environment
The world wants peace throughout the continent
God created One World, One People and One Race
And man invented division and many races in this space
Man created nepotism, money, hate, envy, discrimination
Terrorism, color, greed, betrayal, suffering and corruption
Fire, fires, ceasefire! We need rain, more water to quench the fire
We need Love to annihilate hate and more love to fire
The evil leaders that are destroying our World, our Universe
We want Peace and good fire for our World, for Our Universe.

Copyright © January 2025, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.

Durante os dias mais frios do poderoso inverno
Pense numa primavera doce e sonhe com um verão ameno
Durante as horas mais duras da noite de inverno
Pense em flores e sonhe com uma luz solar mavioso.

A estação chega, fica um tempo e depois foge
A vida passa por um acontecimento circular como a abelha
Como os raios da lua a dançar à volta da Mãe Terra
Para a encantar, abrace-a e beije-a até à morte.

No meio do inverno profundo, pense numa primavera divina
E sonhos de dias de verão brilhantes e sensuais
Nunca se sinta desesperado e pessimista em relação a nada.

Há sempre dias melhores e noites gloriosas pela frente
Mantenha-se positivo e resiliente enquanto a sua cabeça estiver presente
Pense bem e sonhe com raios de sol mais quentes.

P.S. Tradução de: Thinking of Divine Spring in Portuguese.

Copyright © Janeiro 2025, Hébert Logerie, Todos os direitos reservados
Hébert Logerie é autor de vários livros de poesia.

Durante i giorni più freddi del potente inverno
Pensa a una dolce primavera e sogna un'estate mite
Durante le ore più dure della notte invernale
Pensa ai fiori e sogna una piacevole luce del sole.

Arriva la stagione, rimane un po' e poi fugge
La vita attraversa un evento circolare come l'ape
Come i raggi di luna che danzano attorno a Madre Terra
Per incantarla, abbracciarla e baciarla a morte.

Nel mezzo del profondo inverno, pensa a una primavera divina
E sogna giornate estive luminose e afose
Non sentirti mai disperato e pessimista per nulla.

Giorni migliori e notti gloriose sono sempre in arrivo
Rimani positivo e resiliente finché la tua testa è presente
Pensa e sogna un sole più caldo.

Copyright © gennaio 2025, Hébert Logerie, Tutti i diritti riservati
Hébert Logerie è autore di diversi libri di poesie.

Durante los días más fríos del poderos invierno
Piensa en una dulce primavera y sueña con un verano templado
Durante las horas más duras de la noche invernal
Piensa en flores y sueña con una agradable luz solar.

La estación llega, se queda un poco y luego huye
La vida pasa por un evento circular como la abeja
Como los rayos de luna danzando alrededor de la Madre Tierra
Para encantarla, abrazarla y besarla hasta la muerte.

En medio del profundo invierno, piensa en una primavera divina
Y sueña con días de veranos brillantes y bochornosos
Nunca te sientas desesperanzado y pesimista por nada.

Siempre hay días mejores y noches gloriosas por delante
Permanece positivo y resistente mientras tu cabeza este presente
Piensa bien y sueña con rayos solares más cálidos.

P.D. Traducción de: Thinking Of A Divine Spring.

Copyright © Enero de 2025, Hébert Logerie, Todos los derechos reservados
Hébert Logerie es autor de varios libros de poesía.

Throughout the coldest days of the mighty winter
Think of a sweet spring and dream of a mild summer
During the harshest hours of the wintry night
Think of flowers and dream of pleasant sunlight.

Season comes, remains a bit and then flees
Life goes through a circular event like the bees
Like the moonbeams dancing around Mother Earth
In order to enchant, embrace and kiss her to death.

In the midst of deep winter, think of a divine spring
And dream of bright and sultry summer days
Never feel hopeless and pessimistic about anything.

Better days and glorious nights are always ahead
Remain positive and resilient as long as your head
Is present. Think and dream of warmer solar rays.

Copyright © January 2025, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.

We all saw it
We all heard it
We all read it
And smelled it.

Meanwhile Deedeepee is rotting in jail
For probably having committed a similar crime
Some do the crime and others don’t do the time
Similarly, some go to Heaven and others go to Hell.

The world smelled it
The world read it
The world heard it
And we saw it.

Some people are above the law
Some people are found to have no fault
Somewhere, God needs to tight the bolt
So all can hear the unwonted song of the crow.

No jail time, no fine and no probation
However, we all felt the humiliation
For God’s sake, an Honorable Christian like Jimmy
Would have never been in such a gnarly quandary.

We all smelled it
We all read it
We all heard it
And the world saw it.

No further explanation
We wonder if justice was done
No further condemnation
History is always fair, just and fun.

The world heard it
The world read it
The world saw it
And we smelled it.

Copyright © January 2025, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.

On the fifth of April 2024, about 10: 23 a.m., we all felt a shake
It wasn't the midnight train; it wasn't a jack hammer
It wasn't children hopping; it wasn't the roaring of a tiger
It wasn't a 747 emergency landing; it was an earthquake
It was God smiling at us to see how we would have reacted
People had panicked miserably; it was the talk of the town
Imagine how we would behave on the eventual day of the frown
We'd probably be crying, grimacing and feeling deserted
No, that wasn't a plane
No, that wasn't a train
No, that wasn't the lake
Yes, that was a 4.8 Earthquake
In the Northeast
Disturbing our peace
Everybody is now scared, talking about it
Everybody is now stressed, having a fit.

Copyright © April 2024, Hébert Logerie, all rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.

When abruptly, suddenly, and unexpectedly the day
Became the darkest night, countrymen and friends
We didn't know if we should run while saying hello
Farewell or goodbye. The earth was shaking until infinity
Incessantly like afternoon trains coming from countless
Directions. The hour was vital. We were searching for the gleam
Of a hope in order to escape from the supernatural snarl
Where thousands of lives have been lost. Material goods
Are not important, we see ourselves leaving as we
Came. We must recognize that money is futile and peace
Is the most precious thing that we need. The past
This is where stealthy, fleeting and volatile happiness resides
It's like the end of a world. Oh! Every being is useful.

The fault or the rift opened its big mouth to engulf babies
Adults, dogs, cats, houses, buildings and entire roads
That was the apocalypse, which was the end for thousands of citizens
That disappeared like smoke in the bewitched clouds
The trains were invisible but people had risen their hands
In the air, climbing vehicles without doors and tires. Heavy feet
Weighed ten times more than an elephant. We were going to
Unknown destinations. The dumbfounded and deafening cries were
Ubiquitous. Mother Earth was shaking. She shook like she was
About to sink into the sea where the ebb and flow landed
At the skirt of the curtain, where smoke and cloudiness met
Happy are those who have been saved and who live in peace
The earthquake is an infernal avatar that brings sorrow and regret
Haiti, our country has lost lovely people, dear little children
Due to the selfishness of avaricious rulers who are drowning in hypocrisy
We keep saying aloud: poor Haiti, impoverished country. Yet we don't stop crying
While wondering when the tears will cease dropping, melting away and exuding.

Copyright © January 10, 2021, Hébert Logerie, All Rights Reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.

Lorsque brusquement et soudainement le jour
Devenait la nuit la plus obscure, compatriotes et amis
On ne savait pas si on devait courir en se disant bonjour
Adieu ou au revoir. La terre tremblait jusqu'à l'infini
Sans halte, comme des trains nocturnes venant de plusieurs
Directions. L'heure était vitale. On cherchait la lueur
D'un espoir pour s'échapper de l'embrouillamini surnaturel
Où des milliers de vies ont été disparues. Les biens matériels
Ne sont pas importants, on se voit partir tel qu'on est
Venu. On doit reconnaitre que l'argent est futile et la paix
Est la chose la plus précieuse qu'on nécessite. Le passé
C'est là que réside un bonheur furtif, éphémère et volatil
C'est comme la fin d'un monde. Oh! Chaque être est utile.

La faille a ouvert sa grande gueule pour engloutir: bébés
Adultes, chiens, chats, maisons, édifices et routes en entier
C'est l'apocalypse, c'est la fin pour des milliers de citoyens
Qui ont disparu comme de la fumée dans les nuages ensorcelés
Les trains étaient invisibles mais les gens montaient, les mains
En l'air, dans des véhicules sans portes et ni pneus. Les pieds
Lourds pesaient dix fois plus qu'un éléphant. On partait vers des
Destinations inconnues. Les cris abasourdis et muets étaient
Partout. La Terre tremblait. Elle a tremblé comme si elle voulait
S'engloutir dans la mer où le flux et le reflux s'atterrissaient
À la jupe du rideau où la fumée et la nébulosité se rencontraient
Heureux sont ceux qui ont été sauvés et qui vivent en paix
Le séisme est un avatar infernal qui apporte peines et regrets
Haiti, notre pays a perdu des gens charmants, des petits enfants chéris
A cause de l'égoïsme des dirigeants safres imbibés dans l'hypocrisie
On ne cesse de dire à haute voix: pauvre Haiti. On ne cesse de pleurer
En se demandant quand les larmes cesseront de sombrer et d'exsuder.

Copyright© 10 Janvier 2021, Hébert Logerie, Tous Droits Réservés
Hébert Logerie est l'auteur de plusieurs recueils de poèmes.

Papá Noel tenía miedo de pasar el día de Navidad
En las calles de Puerto Príncipe. Las balas se disparaban en masa
Esporádicamente, al azar. Mucha gente se escondía debajo de las camas
Los terroristas traviesos son como perros, hienas en bosques viles o desiertos mortales
Están por todas partes con grandes ametralladoras que no se fabrican en Haití
Los bandidos sin ley o demonios espantosos están matando y aterrorizando a todos
Incluso gatos viejos y ratas sucias que corren por los barrancos
Las cosas son muy serias, extremadamente peligrosas y terriblemente malas en Haití
Este año, el tío Noel tenía miedo, mucho miedo, por eso no visitó
Y no pasó por las pequeñas calles de Haití. Nadie sabe cuándo
Estas cosas feas e inusuales, el caos, los crímenes, la pesadilla cambiarán o terminarán
No hubo misas de medianoche; Todas las puertas de la iglesia estaban cerradas, cerradas
Los bandidos que calzan sandalias sucias llevan armas muy caras y modernas
Que sus tíos occidentales blancos y oligarcas sucios les dieron como regalos de Navidad
Para que puedan empujar a más civiles inocentes más profundamente en las llamas del Infierno
Es muy fascinante notar que los hombres lobos, los infames Loups Garous
También tenían miedo de ir a los cementerios para desenterrar a sus víctimas inocentes
En Haití, antiguamente la Perla de las Indias Occidentales, son perros que comen perros
Son gatos que comen gatos. Son perros que comen ratas
La gente está atrapada en este otrora paraíso, la Perla de las Antillas
Que ahora es el Infierno en la Tierra y mazmorras sangrientas para tantos
Son gatos que comen ratas. Son perros que comen ratas y gatos
Esta es una locura despreciable. Frankenstein habría sido feliz allí
La gente nunca antes había experimentado un desastre tan feo. ¿Cuándo cambiará esto?
¿Cuándo terminará esto? ¿Cuándo los colonos oligárquicos, occidentales y codiciosos
Dejarán en paz al pacífico y resistente pueblo de Haití? ¿Y cuándo, cuándo?
¿Cuándo se rebelará el valiente pueblo? ¿Cuándo, maldita sea, la diáspora
Se unirá para luchar y defender a Haití? Los Haitianos están cansados de perder vidas, dinero
Territorios y propiedades en Haití. ¿Cuándo desaparecerán de la faz del Universo
Todos estos terroristas rebeldes? Estoy gritando furioso
Maldita sea, te estoy hablando a ti. Te estoy hablando a ti, maldita sea
Te estoy hablando a ti, sí, sí, sí a ti, criminales violentos
Cucarachas, pájaros impíos, hipócritas malvados y tontos ignorantes
Deja de hablar de revolución. Usa el sentido común. Deja de soñar
Abre los ojos. Sí, porque en nombre de Iahvé, te estoy hablando a ti también
Papá Noel, Père Noël, Tonton Nowèl tenía miedo. No hay pobres ni gente pequeña
No recibieron regalos, nada, cero, chivatos, sólo los sórdidos perpetradores
Que matan y aterrorizan a los ciudadanos, estaban de fiesta. La débil Policía
El ejército y los indefensos vacacionistas de la ONU no pueden hacer más
Simplemente pueden hacer menos. Sabemos que Haití no es Ucrania
Pero Haití necesita ayuda. Los Haitianos están desesperados, los nefastos presidentes
Del CPT ganan mucho dinero, mucho dinero, mucho dinero, mucho dinero
Y mucho dinero, los infames que están en el poder, reciben mucho dinero
Estos traidores están defendiendo sus bolsillos, no la patria
No protegerán a la gente inocente, no defenderán a Haití
Los bandidos, terroristas, hipócritas y oligarcas codiciosos están al mando
Los grupos criminales están dispersos ubicuamente en los pasillos, por todas partes
El pequeño Jesús no fue a Haití, él también tenía miedo. Santa Claus no vino
Tenía miedo naturalmente. Pensemos, pensemos profundamente
Resistamos y soñemos hasta la primavera.

P.D. Este poema está dedicado a todos los que sufren en Haití.
El pueblo haitiano y la diáspora están cansados de ser humillados. Abajo la miseria,
La inseguridad, la corrupción, el crimen, la injusticia, la impunidad, la discriminación y la desigualdad.
Esta es una traducción de ‘Pè Nowèl Te Pè Pase Nan Pòtoprens, Ayiti’,
“Santa Claus Was Afraid to Pass Through Port-au-Prince, Haiti’.

Copyright © Diciembre 2024, Hébert Logerie, Todos los derechos reservados
Hébert Logerie es autor de varias colecciones de poemas.

A new day
Comes every day
With a morning, a noon
An afternoon and an evening
It's day and it's night
Across the countryside.

The first day of the year
Is as special as the last
Man creates days of feast
To distinguish himself from the beast
That says that all days are the same
Like the wind that dances and sows.

There is a beginning
To smile and laugh
And an end of time
To cry and die
The animals are right
A new season does not matter.

A new year, a new day
A new week, a new month
A new night, a new noon
A new sun, a new moon.

Copyright © January 2021, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.

The end of anything comes rather easy,
Time is not like a clock, time is freaky.
The sun does not come and go,
The moon does not come and go.
I doubt of the true shape of the sun,
Thinking about eternity is not fun,
And the moon and the earth are not round;
They are shapeless. We are bound
To fail exponentially and to succeed moderately.
Time never leaves, time is funny,
Unlike the clock, it follows a straight line,
Never stops, never breaks and is always fine.
Death is the end of the retirement,
It is the beginning of a new testament.
The end of something is the beginning of another,
Should we remember how many times
That the child has been a sophomore, a senior?
At birth, we were reminded by countless chimes
Of life, that there is an end to everything,
And there is always a new beginning.
The constant ending of matters sends the wrong message,
Always remember that life is a passage.
We move on from one state to another,
It is mind-boggling that we’re always thinking about the future.

An old year is slowly winding down
Where every minute and second count
Don’t hold our breath, just count down
Gently and slowly. A new year, a new bout
Is coming down the aisle, while an old year
Is disappearing or evaporating in the air
An old year is gone, an old year is out
A brand new day is in, please let’s not shout
Be happy, be jolly, and be ecstatic for now
Please let’s not be as loud as a hungry cow
We must move on, we must go forward
Let’s not look back and let’s not step backward
A new year is present in the atmosphere
Life is not fair, life is sometimes unfair
Let’s be positive and let’s hope for the best
Let’s be fair and let’s start caring for the rest
Life is not easy. Life is not static.
Life can be wonderful and dynamic
An old year is being chased, that’s natural
And a new year is approaching like a jackal
That’s a phenomenon. A new decade is here too
This is the beginning of something special and anew
An old year is gone. It’s now history. It’s now the past
Time is never slow. Time always runs fast, very fast
Like the last poem of the old decade
And the new poem which will enjoy the new shade.

Copyright © December 2019, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry books.

Papa Noël was afraid to pass through on Christmas Day
In the streets of Port-au-Prince. Bullets were being fired in droves
Sporadically, haphazardly. Many people were hiding under beds
Naughty terrorists are like dogs, hyenas in vile forests or deadly wilderness
They are everywhere with big machine guns which are not made in Haiti
The lawless bandits or God-awful devils are killing and terrorizing everyone
Even old cats and ***** rats that are running in the ravines
Things are very serious, extremely dangerous and awfully bad in Haiti
This year, Uncle Noël was scared, very afraid that's why he failed to visit
And to pass through the tiny streets of Haiti. Nobody knows when
These ugly and unusual things, chaos, crimes, nightmare will change or end
There were no holy midnight masses; all the church doors were shut, closed
The bandits who wear filthy sandals carry very expensive and modern weapons
That their white uncles and ***** oligarchs gave them as Christmas gifts
So that they can drive more innocent civilians deeper into the fires of Hell
It is very fascinating to notice that the werewolves, the infamous Loups Garous
Were also afraid to go to the cemeteries to unearth their innocent victims
In Haiti, formerly Pearl of the West Indies, It's dogs eating dogs
It's cats eating cats. It's dogs eating rats
People are stuck in this once paradise, Pearl of the Antilles
Which is presently Hell on Earth and ****** dungeons for so many
It's cats eating rats. It's dogs eating rats and cats
This is a despicable madness. Frankenstein would have been happy there
People have never experienced such ugly mess before. When will this change
When will this end? When will the oligarchic, western and greedy settlers
Leave the peaceful and resilient people of Haiti alone? And when, when
When will the brave people revolt? When, **** it, will the Diaspora
Unite to fight and defend Haiti? Haitians are tired of losing lives, money
Territories and properties in Haiti. When will all these unruly terrorists
Disappear, vanish on the face of the Universe. I'm shouting angrily
You, **** it, I'm talking to you. I'm freaking talking to you
I'm ******* talking to you, yes, yes, yes to you, violent criminals
Cockroaches, ungodly birds, wicked hypocrites and ignorant fools
Stop talking about revolution. Use common sense. Stop dreaming
Open your eyes. Yes, for in the name of Yahweh, I'm talking to you too
Santa Claus, Père Noël, Tonton Nowèl was afraid. No poor and little people
Received no gifts, nothing, zero, nitch, only the greedy perpetrators
Who **** and terrorize the citizens, were celebrating. The weak Police, the feeble
Army and the helpless UN vacationers can't do more; they can simply do less
We know that Haiti is not Ukraine, yet Haiti needs help. Haitians are desperate
The nefarious CPT presidents make big moollah, big dough, big gourds, big bucks
And big money, the infamous ones who are in power, receive a lot of money
These traitors are defending their pockets, not the homeland
They won't protect the innocent people, they won't defend Haiti
The bandits, terrorists, hypocrites and greedy oligarchs are in command
Criminal groups are scattered ubiquitously in the corridors, all over, everywhere
Little Jesus didn't go to Haiti, he was scared too. Santa Claus didn't come
He was scared naturally. Let's think, think deep, resist and dream until spring.

P.S. This poem is dedicated to all who are suffering in Haiti.
The Haitian people and the Diaspora are tired of being humiliated. Down with misery,
Insecurity, corruption, crime, injustice, impunity, discrimination, and inequality.
This is a translation of ‘Pè Nowèl Te Pè Pase Nan Pòtoprens, Ayiti’.

Copyright © December 2024, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.

Papa Nowèl te pè pase sou Chanmas
Nan lari Pòtoprens. Bal tap tire an mas
Tout kote. Anpil moun sere anba kabann
Teroris yo kwè chyen nan yon move savann
Yo tout kote ak gwo zam ke yo pa fabrike an Ayiti
Bandi yo ap touye e terorize tout moun
Mèm vye chat ak rat kap kouri nan ravinn
Bagay yo grav e danjere nan peyi Dayiti
Tonton Nowèl te pè se sak fè kel pat pase
Ane sila. Pèsonn moun pa konn kilè ke
Bagay sa, dezòd, krim, kanaj sa yo ap chanje
Fini. Pate gen mès minwi, tout pòtt legliz te fèmen
Bandi ak sapat yo gen gwo zam ki trè chè
Ke tonton blan yo bayo kòm kado Nwèl
Pou pèp la ka al kreve pi fon nan lanfè
Sak pi rèd djab sal ak vye san pwèl
Pè al nan simetyè pou al leve moun ke
Yo te touye. Se chyen manje chyen
Se chat manje chat. Se chyen manje rat
Moun antrave nan peyi sila. Se chat
Manje rat. Se chyen manje rat ak chat
Sa se laraj. Moun pa janm te konn tande
Vye istwa sa yo.  Kilè ke bagay sa ap fini, chanje
Kilè ke kolon oligaka, loksidan e sanzave
Sa yo ap kite ti pèp la an repo e kilè
Ke ti pèp la ap revolte, kilè, fout kilè
Dyaspora a fatige pèdi lajan ak propriete
Nan peyi sa. Kilè ke tout teroris sa yo
Ap disparèt. Map fout rele anmwey. Yo
You, map pale ak ou. I’m talking to you
Map fout pale ak ou, wi ak ou
Kokorat, zwazo mechan, ipokrit, sanzave
Pa fout pale de revolisyon. Sispann reve
Ouvri je nou. Wi map pale ak ou tou
Pè Nowèl te pè, oken malere e ti moun
Pat resevwa oken kado sèl move moun
Kap touye e terorize pèp la tap fete. Lapolis
Lame ak nèg Loni yo, se kòm si ke yo paka fè plis
Se mwens ke yo fè sèlman. Nèg CPT yo touche
Gwo lajan, sak nan pouvwa resevwa anpil lajan
Nèg yo ap defann pòch, yo pap defann Patri
Yo pap pwoteje pèp, yo pap defann Ayiti
Ikrèn resevwa gwo kado, gwo zetrenn
Ayiti resevwa  gwo anbago, wi nou konprann
Bandi, teroris, gangstè, loksidan ak olygaka ap vale tèren
Gwoup kriminèl yo ap mennen
Ti Jezi pat ale an Ayiti, li te pè. Papa Nwèl pat pase
Li te pè natirèlman. An nou panse, reflechi anpil jisko printan.

P.S. This poem is dedicated to all who are suffering in Haiti.
Pèp Ayisyen ak dyaspora a bouke pran imilasyion. Aba la mizè, insekirite
koripsyion, krim, injistis, inpinite, diskriminasyon, e inegalite.
See translation of ‘Santa Claus Was Afraid to Pass Through Port-au-Prince, Haiti’.
Copyright © Desanm 2024, Hébert Logerie, Tout dwa rezève
Hébert Logerie se otè plizyè koleksyon powèm.

December is the coolest month
Or the coldest month in some countries
Bring the toys, bring the candies
Grab a jacket, grab a coat and wear pajamas
At night. Stay away from the labyrinth
Get a Christmas tree to decorate
December is the jolliest month of the year
This is the winter month to go from fête to fête
Ride, ride the carousels
Ring, ring the bells
Beat the drums and blow the trumpets, cheer
Cheer and sing Christmas Carols to celebrate
The birth of Jesus Christ
Let it snow, let it snow
Smile and paint a rainbow
Be happy, be enticed
Have a very merry Christmas
Peace on Earth! Peace alas!

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

Bon appétit to all my fellow Haitians and friends,
Who'll be drinking, sipping, savoring Soup Joumou,
Which is made of squash, neck bones, macaroni, oxtails,
Carrots, yams, celery, parsley, and countless vegetables.

This is a powerful, yet historical soup,
With a strong message. This tradition
Started after the Battle of Vertières,
When the Haitian Army defeated the French.

Haiti fought and won its Independence,
On January 1st. 1804 in Gonaives, Haiti,
And became the very first Black Republic
In the world. Believe me, this is amazing.

Soup Joumou, yellow squash symbolizes Respect, Freedom,
Independence, Peace, Pride, Equality and Liberty. It stands
Against slavery, bigotry, racism, unfairness, lies, injustice,
White supremacy, nepotism, inequality and prejudice.

Our Haitian ancestors could not consume such a delicacy
Before, where only the Colonists, the Affranchis
Or the Freedmen could enjoy. The defeat of Gen. Rochambeau
By General Jean Jacques Dessalines had changed the entire scenario.

Please join all Haitians throughout the world by drinking,
Eating and savoring 'Soup Joumou', the Haitian squash soup,
On the first day of every year. Celebrate in memories of strong men,
And women who fought for Liberty, Equality and Fraternity.

Please read the history of the mysterious island of Haiti,
To enhance your knowledge of the world's history.
The Haitian People, in spite of constant internal fights,
Are strong, resilient, friendly, funny and intelligent.


Copyright © December 2016 Logerie Hébert, All Rights Reserved
Hebert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.

Mi patria es el hermoso sol
Mi país no es el invierno duro
Mi país es un edén a menudo verde
Siempre lánguido y tropical al amanecer.

Es un país donde el canto de los gallos
Revive a todos cada mañana
Es un país amueblado con aguanieve sucia y rocas
Donde la naturaleza es un vasto y miserable jardín.

Es un país lleno de historias horribles
Donde los esclavos y la gente decente se rebelan
Contra colonos codiciosos y bucaneros sangrientos
Es donde solo existen recuerdos macabros.

En este ambiente horrible y malhumorado
Donde bromeo todo lo que es negativo
Construiré monumentos positivos
Soñaré y recitaré fábulas.

Mi patria es la luz de la luna
Que da esperanza y fuerza para luchar
Contra los bastardos enmascarados
Y zonbificados. ¡Vaya! Dios, no guardo rencor.

Mi país es la imaginación siempre positiva
Actualmente, no quiero denunciar a nadie.
Sin embargo, silenciaré las campanas que repican
¡Vaya! Es triste ver a mi gente en el éxodo
Junto a las costas de evacuación.

PD Gilles Vigneault, este poema es
Por ti y por nuestra gente.
Copyright © Enero 2023, Hébert Logerie, Todos los derechos reservados
Hébert Logerie es autor de varias colecciones de poesía.

Corazón, Querida, pienso en ti esta noche
Tengo un gran deseo de ver tu cara bonita
Quiero sumergirme profundamente en tus ojos negros
Ahora mismo, a donde estoy tumbado en la playa.

Es un largo tiempo ya que mi corazón sufre
Pero esta noche las lágrimas se derraman sobre la arena
Apenas puedo resistir la presión de este calor
Eso me quema hasta las profundidades de mi ser.

Corazón, dulce amor, pienso en ti esta noche
No tengo tu correspondencia, no sé qué hacer
Voy a buscarte algún lugar en el espejo.
Estoy orando por un milagro en el menor tiempo posible
Pronto estarás muy cerca de mí para complacerme
Y voy a envolverte, donde puedes encontrar amor y paz.

Hebert Logerie Sunday, November 1, 2015

J’ai la couleur du café mal grillé
Et celle du chocolat précocement
Sevré, par les rayons du soleil du midi.

Mes cheveux évaporés, depuis des décennies,
Me suscitent à être reconnaissant,
Parce que je suis chanceux et fortuné,
De voir tourner la terre pour tant d’années.

J’ai les lèvres d’un politicien giflé,
Par les poêles d’un chef maltraité,
Et les dents tachées par le sang coagulé.

Ma langue coupée, hachée et fracassée
Sera avalée comme le rôti volé au marché
Des esclaves morts pendus et torturés
En plein air, sous les verrous des voitures.

J’ai la peau des vers de terre assassinés.
Mon nom tachera la langue des oppresseurs
Et anesthésiera la colère des fieffés menteurs.

Je porte avec fierté la couleur du café mal grillé
Et celle du chocolat oublié dans les cafetières;
Aucun humain ne mérite d’être classé parmi les ordures,
Même si demain tout retournera en poussière.

Le marron inconnu est mon frère aîné;
Les rayons solaires nous ont parfaitement flambés,
Comme le café et cacao venus d’un pays émancipé.

Copyright© Décembre,2011, Hébert Logerie, Tous Droits Réservés
Hébert Logerie est l’auteur de plusieurs recueils de poèmes.

An un-stopped new second
Something new to send
A baby, I am told
Who does not grow old
A new minute
A new suite is built
A new time
A new dime
A new hour
A new dollar
A new year is flatly
Fast approaching
A new dream
In the stream
A new century
Is crawling
Passing by
Good bye.

Hebert Logerie Friday, December 30, 2016
Hebert Logerie has written countless poetry books.