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?Pour la cause?
Deux équipes de névrosés
Vieux de cent ans
Se disputent une première place
Tous les cinq ans
L?une passe
L?autre attend.
Installés confortablement
Ça palabre de qui sera au
premier rang ?
Et les petites gens
Qui les entend ?
Oser se prononcer
On est vite stigmatisée
La rebelle
L?insurgée
L?iconoclaste
N?a pas sa place?
Mon combat n?aura-t-il de suite
Par manque de bakchich ?
Mon île
Que j?aime viscéralement
Se déshumanise-t-elle tout doucement ?
Chaque jour
À chaque pas
Je me bats
Sans appui
Pour raccommoder des petits bouts de vies
Et croiser les regards
Où j?aime la vie.
Je m?accroche ainsi
Réveille ceux enfouis dans un confort et ses restes
Empreint mon île de mes pas
Et d?un sourire je défie le reste
Car oui même tout bas, je dis ce que les autres ne pensent pas?
<B>Joyce DRIVER</B>
<B> ?From under my blanket? </B>
From under the soothing cosyness
From under the warmth of blankets
From under the comforting sighs of luck
From under the scent of sleep-sheets
I think of the one
without a sheet or blanket
under the pouring rain
in the chilly air
under the shop?s muddy verandah
or in the crevices of a dilapidated building
And I dream of a better world
From under the warmth of blankets
when flies and mosquitoes intrude even dreams
and dogs and cats make tremble night?s stillness
When loitering evil-fun seekers on streets
disrupt the much needed coming of sleep
and leaves fear to reign supreme, When brake screechers ruin the night
and murderers of sleep jostle around
I think of the birds on branches
amid the fury of the winds
And I dream of a better world
From under the warmth of blankets
I hear the rattling of impatient leaves
onto their homeward journey,
I imagine erring spirits
questioning the stars for their unending voyage
I think of God and his retinue
pouring his grace on some
other men left in disgrace,
My brain abounds with questions
And I dream of a better world
When at dawn sleep sneaks in
in the hour of the lord
as the dieties and saints
meet in conference on a star
The star I see smiles at me,
In the light I can see the Gods not happy
The saint?s eyes full of regrets.
Man has spoilt their creation
and is eagerly waiting
for a vacancy at God?s level
I fight then the ruse of sleep
And dream no more of a better world
<B>Anitah AUJAYEB</B>
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