MASSOUD TRENCAVEL RESISTANCE HEROES

SILENT-CHILD

Enfant-Silencieuse/Silent-Child

Illustration:  Giovanni Checcucci/Copyright:  Monique Decamps

ETERNITY

Eternité/Eternity

Illustration:  Giovanni Checcucci/Copyright:  Monique Decamps

DESTINY

Destinée/Destiny

Illustration:  Giovanni Checcucci/Copyright: Monique Decamps

HOWLING-WOLF

Loup-Hurlant/Howling-Wolf/Lupo-Ululante

Illustration:  Giovanni Checcucci/Copyright:  Monique Decamps

Spring had come suddenly

As Old Father Time passed on swiftly.

On the banks of the river grew marsh marigolds,

So alike the eyes of lovely Love-Knots.

Among the trees in bud,

Old Father Time was watching.

Deeply sunk in wretchedness

And forebodings of evil.

There was a cloud in his sharp eyes,

As he thought of dear Buttercup.

Her ghost continued to haunt him,

Never had he felt so lonely.

Through a haze of mist

He distinguished a strange beast.

Old Father Time turned gently

As a wounded wolf came up softly. 

"How could such misery exist?", thought he

As the poor creature stopped at his feet.

"Who are you my friend?" asked Old Father Time

Not only do I see you ill in body but also disturbed in mind. 

"Howling-Wolf is my name!" muttered the creature breathlessly

For hours do I run thusly.

You who are said to be swift, may I ask you a favour?

Would you pass quicker that my poor body may heal faster?"

"Brother Wolf!" answered Old FatherTime, astounded

Are you the only one who will not curse me?

Hereafter, everyone dreams to kill me

As I am too swift, and this is the very reason why they are afraid of me!"

"To kill the Time" Howling-Wolf sighed,

Is a dream as old as the mist of times.

As for me, I would rather use the motto affirming

That you heal the wounds along your endless journey.

"Since you ask this favour of me my friend wolf,

Let my wing brush you and quickly heal your wound!

Attentive to your prayer I will take my eternal flight

And perhaps consume myself amidst the rays of the sun?"

Howling-Wolf remained silent

As Old Father Time swirled up to the skies.

A creature hated by all, he was surprised to feel

The sufferings that Old Father Time took up with him.

Lost by the eagle, a white feather was lying upon the ground.

Howling-Wolf gently moved on, taking it into his mouth.

On his side, the ugly wound had disappeared completely

The creature drifted along to a mysterious place, alert and merry.

(to be continued)

LOVE-KNOTS

Accroche-Coeur/Love-Knots/Arriccicatura

Illustration : Giovanni Checcucci/Copyright : Monique Decamps

In the silence of night,

Beneath the silver breath of the moon,

Love-Knots remained quiet,

Amidst the birch and yew.

Feeling very ill,

Eyes burning like glowing coal,

She kept waiting

The birth of her foal.

As the song of owls

Seemed to feel the wood,

Old Father Time trod

Upon the cool carpet of dew.

Ever on tiptoe,

Apprehensively he stepped on,

Cloaked in the grey of shadow,

Stars in the endless sky almost gone.

"O God!" mused he, sadly;

"How doleful is the soul

Who yearns for friendship

As pure and vibrant as a russet moon!"

"And how wretched is the heart of those

Deserted by the sweetness of the love-rose!

Those who, lost in wasteland's deep well

Feel caught in the sticky threads of the spider's web!"

Love-Knots opened large and grave eyes,

Breathing heavily in the thickness of the night.

"Will you do nothing for me?" she neighed

"I have been ailing here for almost a day!"

"But a few months ago I lived happy

The Queen of my horde, beloved and respected.

But my kin I did lose by the misdeed of white men,

Thrown upon the wild ocean's shore by the devil's hand!"

"O!  How strange is happiness, so odd!

Such a fleeting moment, here and gone!

But sometimes it did leave something behind

Would my graceful foal were born before midnight!"

"Alas poor creature!" Old Father Time answered

"All I could do for you is to pass faster!

As I was thus created that I must ever hurry on

Unless one finds a way to spill my blood!"

Old Father Time passed on gently,

And found himself at dawn seated on the bank of a spring.

The wild water was cascading among the rocks,

And the air was full of the sound of birdsongs.