There is no more Fantasy - il n�y a plus de fantaisie

 

 

a dense trouble rules over
the cross-over
and I don't notice
what is happening

and downstairs I hear
the radio that starts
to revive again
recycling the blues

there is no fantasy anymore
everything seems to drag on
another starting-point
or idea do not suffice
to break away from this place

there is no fantasy anymore
not even between our being together
one does not go out anymore

and on television, serials are
broadcasting nonsense that I've already seen
that I already know
and tomorrow they will write
pages that I already have read
that I already know...
look around!!!

there is no harmony anymore
it has been massacred
under the slams of a rap
there is no fantasy anymore
everything seems to drag on
but the music will continue
to play until it survives

and you, "holy author", who used
to shoot from your altar, you
don't know what to say either
you are running out of words
especially the fake ones
and nothing has changed
you've still got the power
that doesn't go
that doesn't go

and nothing has changed
this is the sad news of the day
that will stick on our mind
look around...
look further on!!!

                             French Version (Version Francais)

l'ennui dense désormais
le long du carrefour
que je ne vois plus
ce qui passe

et la radio que
j'entendais en bas
se reprend un peu
recyclant un blues

il n'y a plus de fantaisie
tout semble se traîner ainsi
quelque point de départ,
quelque idée
trop peu pour se débloquer d'ici

il n'y a plus de fantaisie, même
pas à rester ensemble entre nous
on ne sort presque plus

et des feuilletons passent
à la télé que j'ai déjà vu
que je connais déjà
et demains ils écrivent
des pages que j'ai déjà lu
que je connais déjà...
regarde!!!

il n'y a plus d'harmonie
massacrée sous le coup d'un rap
il y a plus de fantaisie désormais
tout semble se traîner ainsi
mais où est la musique
qui est en train d'aller
jusqu'à ce qu'elle survivra

et toi aussi "auteur saint"
qui de ton autel tu tirais en bas
tu ne sais plus quoi dire
les paroles sont presque finies
surtout celles fausses
et rien n'a changé
ce pouvoir est toujours là
et ne s'en va pas
et ne s'en va pas

et rien n'a changé
ceci est un peu une nouveauté
qui nous restera
et nous restera,
regarde... regarde plus loin!!!

Nico S. Poetry.

Peace and Love to all.

Paix et Amour a tous.




 

Reviews

[Kasey Klein]

Thanks for the invite, Nico.

A powerful commentary.

[[untitled]]

I think this is really good. For me, it says that dreams are no more. I love the words you chose. They were very powerful!

[Raef C. Boylan]

You state your case regarding the death of originality very well, with tones of frustration and anger when you speak of how predictable modern 'art' can be. So much of the time it feels like there's nothing left to say.
However, the message clearly hasn't got through to the world; we write poems and stories depicting injustice and how shallow materialism is etc. etc. and it just seems to get worse, so I don't think we should just give up. Besides, there may well be something new out there just waiting to be discovered.

I've just read the poem again, and also reflected on your title, and it seems like your point may actually be how 'art' always mirrors reality, instead of offering an escape from it? This is quite true too. Songs and novels prefer to focus on the dreary and negative, seeking out the worse scenarios; for a novel to be deep nowadays, the trend seems to be that it has to involve heroin addiction/violence/prostitution, and although this stuff is out there, and it's important for us not to forget about it, human existence isn't all about that. We need to remind ourselves of the alternatives, otherwise we might as well all take up drugs to get away from how bleak everything is.

Overall, a good piece - it invoked a lot of thought.
Thanks for posting it.

p.s. Is English your second language? It's very good.