Friday, November 27, 2015

Le Cimetière (Revisted)



           By Mory Keita

Les cadavres de morts englouties le terrain,
Comme des corbeaux penchés  sur de la viande fraiche.
La sérénité du cimetière me fait pense’ a l’éternité.
Ah éternité !  Englouti moi dans ta profondeur sèche;
Englouti moi que je puisse échapper à la mort.

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Wednesday, October 7, 2015

Eureka

By Mory Keita

In solitude I have found knowledge I sought,
More desirous than treasures of Alexander,
Knowledge that shall satisfy till thy riches pale,
For thy treasures guide thou to voracious thirst.

If thou would to bribe me with golden myriad,
Or if thou would to offer to me Midas’golden hand,
I shall not be tempted, nor shall I smile of envy.                                                 
Why should I, when I hold papyrus from my Lord?

If thou are prepared to abandon futilities to join me,
I shall show to thy greedy sight fairest of all wanders,
And thou shall fall on thy knees in front of thy Lord,
For, he dwelled his grace upon me with this wisdom.
                                                                                                                       
Thus, thou shall acquire wealth beyond Alexander’s,
And thou shall cherish thyself more than treasures.


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Sunday, September 20, 2015

Carpe Diem (Revisited)


                                               By Mory Keita

When ye shall grow old from old ages,
In thirty falling seasons of leafy days,
Ye shall not be whom ye desire,
Under leaves yer soul shall grow old too:
In summer ye shall walk under falling leaves,
Seeking yer old self under breezy winds,
But ye shall not find muse in its beauty,
For yer summer days shall grow old too.
In winter ye shall walk under falling snow,
Ye shall be alone in cold days in a coat,
Alas! cold shall whelm yer endurance,
For yer bones shall grow old of old days.
Beware of old ages, live yer youth in warmth,
For ye shall never live these days once more.

Original post,here.

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Sunday, September 13, 2015

Without you

                         
By Mory Keita

Under your spell, beneath your gaze
Dig the grave and let me lie in forever.
Glad to brave oblivion and solitude,
Glad to face you at every awakening
Glad to close my eyes to your fair smile.
Glad to live and breath but your perfume.

I shall seek neither sun nor moon, my love,
for your beauty is the sole light I crave.
So Shine my love, feed my soul with your light,
For without you life is like a barren horizon.


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Tuesday, June 9, 2015

Happy People


     
 
By Mory Keita
I hate happy people and their happy lives,
for they wear happy glasses--
Lens that makes them smile
while the neighbor's house burn.

When you're dying of hunger in the street,
these mockingbirds fly by you without a glance.
They fly, jump, sing,“Hooray life's beautiful!”

They read their magazines in the subway
while a mother begs for silver coins to feed
the tiny, innocent creature in her arms.

They fucking drive hummers aware that
earth's slowly dying of pollution.

Happy glasses are awesome!
with them life's mellow and rosy,
Illusions and reality blend
and all you see is happiness,
while sorrow gnaw your soul.

Oh sister, I am not happy
and will not be happy,
for these happy people, I have learned,
are but sad clowns wearing happy masks.

Damn be them happy people, fuck them all.
How can you be indifferent to the human condition
when there's too much pain and suffering in this world?


Oh Mr. Happy man, what will you do
when your happy glasses break?
When the weight of reality befall upon you?
When you find yourself in Mr Sadman's shoes?

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