Cloud 9 – With Poem!

Cloud 9 – With Poem!
comme des garcons paris
Image by Erik Anestad
I was egoistic and Googled my own name just to see what was out there in cyberspace. It’s interesting what you can find. One of the things I found was that someone had used one of my pictures that was uploaded (by me) a long time (7 years) ago to a site called "", which displays only clouds It was used (with proper identification of owner) to illustrate a poem, in French. Since it’s about 45 years since I had my last French lesson, I unfortunately can’t understand the poem, but I know that some of my flickr friends can, and if someone could give me a hint what it’s about, I would really appreciate it. Here is the poem


Dans ma nuit, si brève, hélas
Le vent a rendez-vous avec les feuilles.
Ma nuit si brève est remplie de l’angoisse dévastatrice
Ecoute! Entends-tu le souffle des ténèbres?
De ce bonheur, je me sens étranger.
Au désespoir je suis accoutumée.
Ecoute! Entends-tu le souffle des ténèbres?
Là, dans la nuit, quelque chose se passe
La lune est rouge et angoissée.
Et accrochés à ce toit
Qui risque de s’effondrer à tout moment,
Les nuages, comme une foule de pleureuses,
Attendent l’accouchement de la pluie,
Un instant, et puis rien.
Derrière cette fenêtre,
C’est la nuit qui tremble
Et c’est la terre qui s’arrête de tourner.
Derrière cette fenêtre, un inconnu s’inquiète
pour moi et toi.
Toi, toute verdoyante,
Pose tes mains – ces souvenirs ardents –
Sur mes mains amoureuses
Et confie tes lèvres, repues de la chaleur de la vie,
Aux caresses de mes lèvres amoureuses
Le vent nous emportera!
Le vent nous emportera!

Forough Farrokhzad,
Poème extrait du film Le Vent nous emportera,
d’Abbas Kiarostami

Here is a translation thanks to
*Laurence Garçon* (Please visit her photo stream to see fantastic pictures from Paris)
Thank you Laurance!

In my night, so sadly short,
The wind has a date with the leaves.
My night, so short, is filled with destructive anxiety
Listen! Do you hear the breath of blackness?
To this happiness, I feel foreign.
To despair I am accustomed.
Listen! Do you hear the breath of blackness?
There, in the night, something is happening
The moon is red and anxious.
And hung on this roof
Which risks collapsing any time,
Clouds, as a crowd of grumblers,
Wait for the delivery of the rain,
An instant, and then nothing.
Behind this window,
It is the night that trembles
And it is the earth which stops to turn.
Behind this window, the unknown gets worried
for me and you.
You, very green,
Put down your hands – these burning memories-
On my loving hands
And entrust your lips, fed on the warmth of life,
In the caresses of my loving lips
The wind will take us!
The wind will take us!

Technical note; This a picture taken very early with my first digital camera, a Leica (made by Fuji). The resolution was not very good, but it was fun to try something digital.
The original was saved on a Zip 100 disc, which has since deteriorated and is now unreadable. A lesson learned that our digital media will not last as long as my grandparent’s b/w photos.

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