La poesía en femenino - Lycée Français Molière

El viernes 8 de marzo de 2019, los alumnos CM2A (último año de primaria) se reunieron con los de 5ème (segundo año de secundaria) para recitar poemas escritos por mujeres, en francés y en inglés.

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Life Doesn’t Frighten Me
by Maya Angelou

Shadows on the wall
Noises down the hall
Life doesn’t frighten me at all

Bad dogs barking loud
Big ghosts in a cloud
Life doesn’t frighten me at all

Mean old Mother Goose
Lions on the loose
They don’t frighten me at all

Dragons breathing flame
On my counterpane
That doesn’t frighten me at all.

I go boo
Make them shoo
I make fun
Way they run
I won’t cry
So they fly
I just smile
They go wild

Life doesn’t frighten me at all.

Tough guys fight
All alone at night
Life doesn’t frighten me at all.

Panthers in the park
Strangers in the dark
No, they don’t frighten me at all.

That new classroom where
Boys all pull my hair
(Kissy little girls
With their hair in curls)
They don’t frighten me at all.

Don’t show me frogs and snakes
And listen for my scream,
If I’m afraid at all
It’s only in my dreams.

I’ve got a magic charm
That I keep up my sleeve
I can walk the ocean floor
And never have to breathe.

Life doesn’t frighten me at all
Not at all
Not at all.

Life doesn’t frighten me at all.

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My next door neighbour is a witch –

by Samiya Vallee

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My next door neighbour is a witch,

And she lives way down in a ditch.

Her clothing is a little strange,

Because she never wants to change.

She has a black robe and a black hat,

Green skin and a smelly black cat.

A big fat wart grows on her nose,

And seventeen pimples on her toes.

But…her food is EVEN worse,

Because she eats it course by course.

Her first course is seven dead bats,

Laid on top of seven rats.

Then she has twenty flies With lots and lots of llama eyes.

Her main course is a horrible soup,

Because it’s made with doggie poop.

But worst of all is her dessert.

It’s little children rolled in dirt.

Last night she had a witch’s feast And turned into a greedy beast.

I think she cooked my best friend Tilly And ate her with some peas and broccoli.

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Who Has Seen the Wind?

by Christina Rossetti

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Who has seen the wind?
Neither I nor you:
But when the leaves hang trembling,
The wind is passing through.
Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor I:
But when the trees bow down their heads,
The wind is passing by.

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What is pink?

by Christina Rossetti

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What is pink? a rose is pink
By a fountain’s brink.
What is red? a poppy’s red
In its barley bed.
What is blue? the sky is blue
Where the clouds float thro’.
What is white? a swan is white
Sailing in the light.
What is yellow? pears are yellow,
Rich and ripe and mellow.
What is green? the grass is green,
With small flowers between.
What is violet? clouds are violet
In the summer twilight.
What is orange? Why, an orange,
Just an orange!
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My way to relax 

by Justyce M. Ryder

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The birds sing,
Bugs cling,
Butterflies flutter,
Water drips from a gutter.

A beautiful day,
Here I stay,
Bathing in the sun,
I start to hum.

Making a song
With spring,
The grass clings
To me.

I stand up,
Brush myself off
And cough.
My eyes caught the beauty of spring.

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Books

by Sanya Tandon

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My best friend is a book
that doesn’t give me a weird look.
It is like a golden door
that takes me to the land where I have never been before.
It tells me the tales of fairy
that take me to the land full of merry.
Some books are boring like history,
which is like a big mystery.
Books are the source of enlightenment
that vanquish darkness and fill our life with brightness.

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Virelai

Christine de Pisan (1364 – 1431)

Je chante par couverture,
Mais mieulx plourassent mi œil,
Ne nul ne scet le traveil
Que mon pouvre cuer endure.

Pour ce muce ma doulour
Qu’en nul je ne voy pitié,
Plus a l’en cause de plour
Mains treuve l’en d’amistié.

Pour ce plainte ne murmure
Ne fais de mon piteux dueil ;
Ainçois ris quant plourer vueil,
Et sanz rime et sanz mesure
Je chante par couverture.

Petit porte de valour
De soy monstrer dehaitié,
Ne le tiennent qu’a folour
Ceulz qui ont le cuer haitié

Si n’ay de demonstrer cure
L’entencion de mon vueil,
Ains, tout ainsi com je sueil,
Pour celler ma peine obscure,
Je chante par couverture.

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Odelette

Madeleine Ley (1901 – 1981)

Araignée grise
Araignée d’argent,
Ton échelle exquise
tremble dans le vent.

Toile d’araignée
– émerveillement ! –
Lourde de rosée
Dans le matin blanc.

Ouvrage subtil
Qui frissonne et ploie.
Ô maison de fil,
Escalier de soie !

Araignée grise,
Araignée d’argent,
Ton échelle exquise
Tremble dans le vent

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La fourmi et la cigale

Andrée Chédid (1920 – 2011)

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«Fini, fini !»
Dit la fourmi.
«Au diable la parcimonie ! Dès aujourd’hui
Je convie
Toutes cigales affranchies
A me chanter leurs mélodies,
Et nous fêterons, en compagnie,
La vie qui bouge,
La vie qui fuit !»

«Holà, holà !»
Fit la cigale
Poussant un cri très vertical.
«Pour moi, adieu le carnaval !
L’hiver, l’hiver m’a tant appris,
Et le souci tant rétrécie,
Que j’ai rangé toutes mes rêveries
Pour m’établir
En Bourgeoisie !»

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Bricolage

Andrée Chédid (1920 – 2011)

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Tu naquis d’un bricolage
Du génial univers
Par étranges combinaisons
Par surprise et par liaisons
Tu devins Toi plutôt que mouche
Plutôt que zèbre souris lion

Surgi du magma des possibles
Et de la souche de toute vie
Tu devins Toi
Unique au monde
Face à l’éphémère défi.

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Les bécasses

Andrée Chédid (1920 – 2011)

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Sur la terrasse 

Les bécasses 

Jacassent, jacassent

Et font des grâces

Mais Boniface

Le garde-chasse  

Passant par là 

Les prend en nasse 

Et les cadenasse 

Dans sa besace 

 « C’est pas finasse

Une bécasse ! »

Chante Boniface

De sa voix de basse

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También intervino la poeta Carole Gabriele para leer en español y en francés sus poemas sobre el lugar de la mujer en la poesía y relatar su propia experiencia.