Peddle fever (with apologies to John Masefield)

I must get out on my bike again, on the open road in the saddle,

With tyres tight and Lycra light and toes strapped to the peddle.

The rain may fall and glasses mist and vista’s dull and dim,

But lungs will fill to bursting, for the climbs so steep and grim.

So I must get out on my bike again, for the rush that hits the senses

The breath of wind on open skin and the excitement it dispenses. 

What I need is a trusty steed well oiled, both it and me,

And luck that I’m blessed with bon santé not any malady.

Yes I will go out on my bike again and roam as by my fancy

By well worn track or path not trod, even if bare and chancy,

And all I ask is a full hip flask, as a way to curb my fear,

And when days is done and race is run a lovely cup of cheer.

To Be Fair.....

When angels are rewarded with farthings

But talentless, tasteless, titillations with gold  

How can we say our culture is caring?

Or our feeling for others not cold?

When justice is another good for sale

And for the poor it is all but denied

Inequality is hiding under the veil

Worn by leaders with specious pride.

When tolerance for difference and strangers

Is missing, ignorant prejudice abounds,

It’s clear that humanity is in danger

Unless some new outlook is found,

Then “to be fair” as a preface is shot

Because “to be honest” we’re not.

Ambition

Ambition

What is it you want to be

The zenith to which you aspire?

And to get it, will you perspire

Or turn a subtler key.

Maybe rely on your family tree,

Not work for each step higher

Just be gifted your hearts desire,

And settle at the top for free.

It must be better to rise on merit

To ride the energetic wave

Embracing the highs and the lows

Only qualities we should inherit

To be strong and to be brave

So to win despite the blows

Truth

What is truth, is it black and white

Is honesty in deed the best policy?

Are those with the might always right

Does power corrupt us, absolutely?

For the answers do we look to others

In sundry media, assorted opinions.

But do we look under the covers

Are these leaders or merely minions

Who is it tells us what to say and think?

And can we seek the meaning through?

Or is it into conformity we sink?

And what their saying must be true.

The more we probe for candour

The more we cogitate and verify

Awareness we begin to gander

And no more need to clarify.

When told that it is for certain

Black is black no white or brown

If we only glimpse behind the curtain

We see that up is really down

Temps

Au firmament le soleil a brillé
Et pour un court instant s'en est allé

Voici le jour où le monde apparaît
Dans le flot temporel d'un cur qui naît

Du gouffre ténébreux l'aube s’élève
Au sommet du chêne où monte la sève

Solennelle s'épuisant en serments
Et promesses trahies au fil du temps

La vie est courte en sa rude saison
On en ignore le sens la raison

Il est absent à travers tous les âges
Le sauveur de la pluie et des orages

Et nostalgique l'imagination
Refait le monde et la création

Le temps d' une vie le temps d'un mystère
Le soleil illuminera la terre

Pour un instant il la réchauffera
Et comme il est venu il s'en ira

Richard Sage 

Traduction
Jean-Pierre Mallet

Empire and Art

We all recall the enigmatic smile

Of the Mona Lisa by Leonardo

But less the House of Valois know

Or of King Francis his patron’s profile

And the origin of renaissance style.

To him the then people of France bestow

The title “Le Pere de Lettres”  to show

His importance as a bibliophile.

So which one has best stood the test of time?

The philanthropic king and all his deeds

Now at Fontainebleau they pay him no heed

You queue in Paris to see her sublime

 “ La Gioconda” with her vacant gaze.

Art is immortal, empire decays.