The lion man (writing)

The lion man (writing)

Some relationships are not good for the soul ,it’s better to let it die .

I left this man when his wife came back with the kids without notice.He was in the army for many years and was completly detached from his emotions.He acted like everything and everyone were smaller than him…just like a king Lion…. :) Tom Vaughan helped me a lot for the translation.Then a super nice lady namedSusan Van Zil finickted it over…I feel so lucky to have such nice persons arround me to give me a hand…a big thank you…XX
Picture taken at St-Jean-Port-Joli along the fleuve St-Laurent,province of Quebec.

The lion man

The kitten plays with his woolen ball
Happy at last to have something to put under his tooth
Quietly, his ancestral pains immerge from his body
He bites, slowly at first and then more and more strongly
His lioness must stay soft, loving and submissive in spite of the bites
in spite of the competition of another female and her offspring
But she passed the age of obedience
He can not accept, his pride is to big
Something in him attracts her. He’s a warrior,
so is she, passionate and proud
He is moved beyond this last battle just after an intense love
puts an end to their mutual rage.
The lioness lies like a gnu, the jugular opened,
with an eternal and proud glance
Happy at last that her love had chosen
in spite of him, the end
He does not share his females, she wanted to leave him
because she does not share the one she loves.
He carries a gash,
but it is only one scar moreover
More visible than all the wounds hiding in his young body
Tired to be on the look-out
weary to battle against all those contradictory emotions
endless torture…
He knows neither sorrow nor regrets
Just a funny feeling, deep in his throat,
a queezing sensation, another howling of rage
for a world much more smaller than him
On witch he has authority, his equal mate just died today
and it is much better thus.
He remains the strongest, the king,
the master of the Savanna
Still and mortal
He does not have friends
His only enemy is himself
Sad and secluded struggle

L’homme lion

Le chaton joue avec sa balle de laine
Heureux enfin d’avoir quelque chose à se mettre sous la dent
Très vite, ses douleurs ancestrales refont surface
Il mord ,doucement au début ,puis,de plus en plus fort
Sa lionne doit être douce,aimante et docile, malgré les morsures
Malgré la compétition d’une autre femelle et sa progéniture

Mais elle a passé l’âge de la soumission
Il ne peut accepter ,son orgueuil est trop grand
Quelque chose chez elle l’attire ,il est un guerrier
Elle est une guerrière, passionnée et fière
Il est dépassé et inquiet…une dernière bataille
Juste après l’avoir conquise intensément ,met fin à cette rage mutuelle

La lionne git comme le gnou
La jugulaire ouverte,le regard fier
Heureuse enfin que son amour ait choisi
Bien malgré lui, la fin
Il ne prête pas ses lionnes,elle voulait le quitter
Car elle ne prête pas son amour

Il porte une balafre,mais ce n’est qu’une cicatrice de plus
Plus visible que toutes ces marques
Enfouies dans un corps jeune ,mais las
D’être toujours aux aguets,fatigué de se battre
Contre toutes ces émotions contracdictoires
Interminable supplice

Il ne connait ni peine ni regret
Juste une drôle de sensation à la gorge ,un serrement
Un autre rugissement de colère
Pour un monde bien plus petit que lui
Sur lequel il a autorité…son égale vient de mourir
C’est beaucoup mieux ainsi

Il reste le plus fort,le roi,le diable de la savane
Silençieux et mortel
Il n’a pas d’amis ,son seul ennemi
Est lui même
Combat solitaire et triste ….

Gisèle alias Micmac

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