provenant des cahiers manuscrits d’Anjela Duval ou de ses publications antérieures

Thanks to you God the Creator! To have destined me to be a farmer. Oh Master of Nature You have given me the Happiness To work in your company. You give the Earth, the rain and the heat. I fertilize, […]

I have chosen to be a slave, A slave forever. I was born to a race of slaves. Those slaves are subject to no man, Those slaves are all free people, Those slaves are subjects of the land, Slaves of […]

Have pity, Lord on the Earth! O yes: I know you are patient You had reason to be angry long ago At prodigal and careless Humanity. So the hour of Punishment has come. Bow your neck then under the staff, […]

They are heedless Those who walk on city pavements. Heedless of killing and injuring Small creatures moving or not… Ah! How heedful I am at each step Heedful of crushing, of smashing Along the path or through the field Tiny […]

Rain on Brittany. Rain Night and day, no peace No surcease The earth’s drowned. The Sowing threatened. Ditches turned to pools Roads to canals The stream to a waterfall. The valley’s hum The landscape’s élan. Raised from its great bed […]

All Poets on Earth throughout the centuries. Have sung your praises. O Moon Impatient lamp in the starry vault The night’s beauty in the light of your solitude, You, who puts movement in the sea, life in seed and art […]

Sunday they were still grey And their branches naked, The row of poplar trees So tall and so thin On the edge of the meadow, Contemplating their image, In the dark water of the Leger. —Today they’ve changed color. They’re […]

—Ah, Ash-tree! So you are awake? I thought you were dead, Cut down while you slept By winter’s severity… —Quickly don your lacy skirt: You’ve been struck by apathy. May is perhaps asking itself, What happened to its Queen? Some […]

And what are you thinking, black crow Perched high on the pine tree And what are you thinking, black crow Are you surveying the land Do you see high or low A newly sown field? And what are you thinking, […]

On top of the hedge, above the cart track There is a unique little plant. Every day I pass near it, And every day I look at it: It’s only a dog rose… A curly barb in her blossoms Among […]