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I´d like to do both, Francois.

I´d really like to translate another one, to give my French another boost. And I´ll happily try to write an adaptation of your poem, and feel very honoured that you´ve offered. I have actually written quite a few "twin", "mirror" or "answer" poems (as I call them) on the works of others that I particularly liked. I´ll give you two examples:

RGarfield was a landsman of yours (from Alberta) and a good friend of mine back in ezboard times, we worked together for years on the same poetry board. He died a week ago, after a long struggle with illness, and my ex-boyfriend informed me - they were still close friends and still worked together on our old board. May he rest in peace. He was an extremely creative person, he wrote more poems in a month than I in a whole year, and was very much a teacher at heart, he always came up with challenges, and was very encouraging. So when you just gave me a challenge, I thought of him.

Here is a poem RG wrote and that touched something in me:

Hooks

Within, we must have rough edges;
places where we can hang memory.

For memory gives hope to future,
and without future there is no joy.

Some memories help us emulate
those things we wish to copy.

Some memories help us regulate
those things we must control.

Some memories terrify us
but give opportunity for receiving.

Some memories bring happiness
out of retirement and back to life.

Some memories aren't even our own.

*


And here´s my mirror poem:

Hooked

Within, we should be all smooth,
without places to hang memory.

For memory can barr the future,
and without future there is no joy.

Some memories bind us backwards
so we can´t grow, only copy.

Some memories haunt us mercilessly,
in our dreams they take control.

Some memories terrify us,
keep us from giving and receiving.

Some memories bring happiness,
only to lead us further into the dead past.

And yet, some memories are all we own.

*

And here´s a little poem my ex-boyfriend Matt wrote for me once:

Evening,
by the sea
two lovers stole,
each a wave
to tell a tune's tale
of a sailor's courage
never forgotten.
Spring colours
of this new land
formed in one
touched moment
yesterday.

*

And my twin poem:

Scents
of evening,
to an apple yard
two lovers came,
each a branch
to blossom the roots
of a heart longing
to intertwine.
Summers warmth
in those hands
touching strength
for the first time
that year.



Btw, I find it remarkable that you offered me an adaptation - because in a way, adapting is something that is a deep part of my nature, actually it´s easier for me to reply to something or write my own take on it than to come up with a creatio ex nihilo, a creation out of nothing (not that I can´t do that, but it´s difficult for me). I don´t think I am particularly originally creative, my forte is rather to relate to and feel my way into things others have written. And as I could relate to your poem very much, I´m interested in what I´ll come up with.