Poem by Myriam Ghezaïl Ben Brahim
I build an envelope of silence while walking,
But the trees disturbed by my steps lose their voices,
The frightened birds fly away from me,
A bolder squirrel runs and does a dance.
Peace to my heart after this long and difficult journey,
Its beating stuns me to my ears,
Like the buzzing of a beehive,
Could it be the altitude that blurs my images so much?
But this forest that I love, pampers me in its cradle,
It caresses with the end of its long branches, my walk,
It is she who shades my steps while passing under her arches,
She sings a lullaby on the clear notes of the stream.
Rest friend: she says to me? Breathe, inhale the pure air of the summits,
An apotheosis of sensations bent under the fingers of summer,
The beginnings of a paradise that man has since forgotten,
I sit there in the ferns and the most intimate mosses;
Later when the sun bends towards the distant horizon,
When the cool evening breeze rises and snatches me from my oblivion,
I shall go away with him from this sweet paradise,
And thus I shall travel naked on the chariot of divine Aquilon.
© Myriam Ghezaïl Ben Brahim