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Tom Vassos Dec 2019
Trébuchant,
Ne va nulle part.
Perdu de désespoir,
Perdu dans le chagrin.

Trébuchant en rond,
Ne pas me réveiller de mon rêve.
Perdu dans mes pensées,
Perdu dans le passé.

Trébuchant à impuissant,
Pas capable de guérir mon cœur.
Perdu dans les émotions,
Perdu dans l'angoisse.

Trébuchant vers nulle part,
Ne sachant pas comment se lever.
Perdu dans ma douleur,
Perdu dans ma culpabilité.

Trébuchant à amer,
Ne sachant pas quoi faire ensuite.
Perdu dans les conneries,
Perdu dans la colère.

Trébuchant pour décliner,
Ne sachant pas comment se libérer.
Perdu dans la confusion,
Perdu dans l'illusion.

Trébuchant de détresse,
Ne sachant pas pourquoi je t'aime.
Perdu avec les démons,
Perdu dans le bourbier.

Trébuchant à rien,
Ne connaissant pas la vraie dévotion.
Perdu dans mon tourment,
Perdu dans le non-sens.

Trébuchant sur le désordre,
Ne sachant pas comment riposter.
Perdu dans le chaos,
Perdu dans la fureur.

Trébuchant à l'agonie,
Ne sachant pas comment changer de cap.
Perdu dans un gros gâchis,
Perdu dans des blessures silencieuses.

Trébuchant vers la destruction,
Ne sachant pas se tenir debout.
Perdu dans l'isolement,
Perdu dans la désillusion.

Trébuchant jusqu'à l'extinction,
Peu importe où je me retrouve.
Perdu dans la dévastation,
Perdu en ruine.

Réveille-toi, réveille-toi,
Levez-vous, levez-vous,
Grandir, grandir,
Lève-toi, lève-toi,
Battez-vous, battez-vous,
Contre-attaque, contre-attaque,
Envolez-vous maintenant, envolez-vous maintenant.

Fermez la porte… Libérez-vous.
This was an automated English to French translation so any feedback that you have would be appreciated. The original poem in English is here: https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3431216/stumbling-and-lost/

Thanks!
'Sorry'
Deutsch: Entschuldigung, es tut mir leid
Français: Je suis désolé, désolé
Do you understand?
It's in your native tongue.
And until now,
It's been your praise I've sung.
For: Huxley Densen, Alistair Cadger
PS Nov 2019
Will you remember me when the sky changes its color?
The blue that fades to violet in the mystical hour.

Will you remember to forgive me after you drown in the whiskey?
Holding the color similar to the brown liquid that runs through your pupils briskly.

Will you remember me like when we were young?
All buoyant and sanguine when not a witnessed event felt unstrung.

It's okay if after years you forget how my eyes once reminded you of the stars.
I just hope you still remember how you made my oblivious heart grin before it learned about its scars.

Aye, beloved you, je t'ai trop aimé (I love you too much).
I'm sorry for I know I should've held on but I let you go anyway.

~ AllTheLovePS
Alex Nov 2019
Drift upon a sea of regret
my feet drag on the failures of my past
and weaken at missed opportunities

the waves cut my soul with words past said
the winds whispers the lies
the storm consumes me

Drift upon a sea of regret
i reach out my hand to lovers lost
they sink into darkness
their once warm touch is now gone

Nightfall appears unwelcome
The stars as vast as my sorrow
Each shine as a reminder
For i stand at sea alone
Every time I hear Emilie Simon - Desert it makes me feel totally lost...I love to listen to it with my eyes closed laying down to really feel every note, every word, every second of that heart breaking beautiful song.
Diána Bósa Nov 2019
You said quel dommage that
we don't share the same language,
yet still it was your body
which remained silent
to the mother tongue of love.
ghost queen Nov 2019
qu'est que tu cherches chérie       what are you searching my love
qu'est que tu désires                      what is it you desire
dis moi tes secrets                          tell me your secrets
laisse ton coeur s'ouvrir                let your heart open
comme une fleur pour moi           like a flower for me
Je veux chanter des chansons avec toi
Embrasse moi et marmonne à moi
Ta voix est la seule voix que je veux entendre
Courons dans les rues ensemble
Tes mains sont les seules mains que je veux tenir
Tombe amoureux de moi cette nuit
Tu es la seul avec qui je veux être
Jusqu'a la fin de ma vie
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
One thousand six hundred and sixty six
none: a salesman, a noble, or a cook
Macabre swam the sea of ****** Bay
In a fleet, the Dutch, French and Britsh he took

A crimson tide soaked the sand to a stain
Great reefs, he made, floating stench of maim
The more Macabre swam for lust of pain
More life, to the vast ocean floor, he claim

Now, three hundred and twenty three years on
Under a full moon in the depth of night
He, Macabre, still swims a ****** Bay
In search of an undaunted soul to fight.
A Personification of Macabre
Megan Joseph Nov 2019
le vent souffle
mes cheveux et
le soleil brille.
je vois les fluers,
ils ont beaucoup
des couleurs,
leur parfum
remplit l'air,
je suis assis
sur les fleurs
et regarde
le ciel lumineux.
c'est noire
maintenant,
mais les fleurs
sont là toujours.
je disparais
avec la nuit
et regarde les
belles fleurs
du ciel.
ive been meaning to write a full poem in french and i finally got around to it! sorry if i made any mistakes im still learning :)
ghost queen Nov 2019
............ morning

I say this sincerely and from the bottom of my heart, you are incredible, fascinating, and impressive

Ahhh, thanks JC.
I’m flattered you think so because I feel quite ordinary.

You are the most extraordinary and exotic orchid in the jungle

And then you say stuff like that, that makes me wonder what you wrote before is true.

I don’t understand

That is so untrue, that it makes me wonder about your previous sincere comment

It is true in my heart and soul, please never ever doubt it, accept the compliment, deeply and fully !!!



............ next morning

I accept the first one. 

Baby Girl, what I write about you, is inspired by you, it is what i see and feel, please believe and  accept the compliments unconditionally, as I don’t say what is on my heart casually


............ next morning

Good morning Sleeping Beauty, how is the fairest flower in the forest this morning

This flower is wilted.

My flower has awaken, opening, unfolding to the glory of the sun, inspiring the birds and bees that swarm around her, vying for her nectar

Be a good Parisienne girl, and accept and bask in compliment of one of your many male admirers

That’s my fav poem yet.  Hmmm, many male admirers....


............ next morning

A little poem for you this Monday morning

Chère Reine, ouvriez votre coeur, laissez moi secher vos larmes, aimer votre ame.

Baby Girl, be kind your you inner little girl, she needs your attention and love too

Truer were words could not be written today
Reine...isn’t that queen?

Yes, as in you are my Queen

My dearest Queen, open your heart, let me dry your tears, love your soul (sound better in French)

Everything sounds better in French

Did you like the Queen poem
(remember I’m sensitive artistic type of guy )

Yes, I liked it..., sending you a loving kiss


............ next morning

Your baking is always superb, you are my heroine..., call you Chef Girl Genevieve

I don’t post the stuff that goes amok.
I am no chef. That is an earned title and I def do not qualify. I just like to play in the kitchen with sugar

you are a grand chef in my eyes

Faux chef Genevieve

here we go again, am i going to have to write another poem of how great you are

I must have blown some other kind of dust in your eyes

You are like a wickedly delicious ice cream sundae, made up of complex layers of intelligence, wit, charm, and sophistication. And the cherry on top, is your stunning elegance, femininity, and beauty
written from a series of morning text messages
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