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Poetry

Black and Blue

By Paul Wamo
Translated from French by Jean Anderson
In two contrasting quartets of poems, New Caledonian poet Paul Wamo reflects on his otherness in France and his deep connection with the natural world of his native Lifou.
A blurred picture of a person walking in a street at night.
Art by David Hammons. Courtesy of Harvard University Art Museums. Public domain.


Paul Wamo Reads “Blue Rebirth.” 

Being Black with My Own Night

Four texts from a series titled “Black Fear” about my relationship with otherness during my stay in France as a black-skinned person, 2014–2019.

I See Him

I see him walking, he stops, he walks again, he doesn’t walk the way he did just before, it looks as though he’s sweating, he’s in a hurry, he passes by us, he sits down for a moment, his face is telling us something, what? what? He’s being watched, from a distance now, people approach, he moves away, we run, perhaps he needs us, perhaps or definitely, someone else arrives and then someone else, and then another one, we follow them, they look ill, or maybe they’re lost, maybe, we follow them, they laugh, they’ve got a strange laugh, are they really laughing? not quite, people don’t laugh like that, “excuse me, did you laugh?” one of them answers us, “yes,” he’s got a strange accent, we move closer, we listen to them, “what country are you from?” I turn around I see us I see myself I reply “from here” I walk, I walk, straight ahead and straight behind I walk and the more I get ahead the more I pull back and the more I see you looking at me

I see you

 

Black Fear

They have seen my feet
And I have seen their eyes
They didn’t open their mouths
And I could hear their eyes
They almost lifted their heads

And I saw their eyes

(eyes that slipped
Between Dream and Nightmare
Danger and Desire)

 

Bandages for All

                                    for Rokiah Dialo

Just give me
If you go
Something to believe
To suck on urgently
That looks like our volcanoes used to
That sings our praises
Something that looks like a World
Where Band-aids
Come in dark colors too

 

Rage Hiding Deep in a Hole

Rage hiding deep in a hole

Shall we become what we promised ourselves we would?

Who are you?
What are you doing here?
Where do you come from?

Laugh so as to see if

YOU are really what YOU are?

The fanfares have fallen away
Along with the night

Street lying on its belly
So clean
So white
So flat

And well-behaved

I am the new tenant
The skin on my ass is the baton’s target
BLACK
Walking in my new street / counting the 110 steps of my
BLACK
toes

Inside my new apartment building
Walking back up my new street
Nearly every day nearly

Everywhere HERE

The same fussy questions
Aimed at my forehead
Angering me

Rage hiding deep in a hole
Shall we STILL keep on
Repeating the same answers?
Pulling the same faces?
Singing the same cries

When across from

HERE

All around my new street
On every floor of my new apartment building
The same refrain

Returns as I appear?

And then

The fanfares have fallen away
Along with the night

 

Blue Rebirth

The original titles of these poems are written in Drehu, the language spoken on the island of Lifou (also known as Drehu).

Hna kuca kö    (What Must Be, Will Be)

Come let us be together
In ultimate oneness
Come let us redraw
Spirals on our rocks
To tattoo the Moon
Inside our secrets
Come let us say
That everything that happens
Happens because it must

 

Loi ju ë            (Enough, Already!)

We shall sleep no more on the pillow of echoing pathos

Nights of sowing whose flowers
Bring forth no praises

Of Silence
In a fiery circle
In herds
In vines clutching throats

Enough Yes Enough

Of promises where curving lips do not hold the dawn

Aborted into children’s games

Enough Yes Enough
We shall rest our foreheads no more
On memory’s breast
Not born from our laughter

And of those buried
As far off as possible

We say

At the rising of the Drums
Our eyes shall want to open
To a new now

 

Hnagejë          (Ocean)

When the rushing waves repeat
Horizontal
Blue as the eyes of a summer season sky
Faithful to the Silence
Faithful to the Perfume
Of the salt-tongued shores

The sea

Like an embrace
Like a respirator
Like a call

Enough to make us believe that Time

Will not catch us again in the trap
of Tomorrow or Before

 

Enyi     (Wind)

Give up everything you know

Let go of
Name Age Sex Past Future
Set them down for a moment
At the foot of the Bamboo stakes
Then deeply
Draw in your breath
And blow forth again and again

The seeds of a new flowering

“Je le vois,” “Peur Noire,” “Pansement pour tous,” “La rage cachée au fond d’un trou,” “Hna kuca kö,” “Loi ju ë,” “Hnagejë,” and “Enyi” first published in Littéramā’ohi 25 (2021). Copyright © Paul Wamo. By arrangement with the author. Translation © 2024 by Jean Anderson. All rights reserved.

English French (Original)


Paul Wamo Reads “Blue Rebirth.” 

Being Black with My Own Night

Four texts from a series titled “Black Fear” about my relationship with otherness during my stay in France as a black-skinned person, 2014–2019.

I See Him

I see him walking, he stops, he walks again, he doesn’t walk the way he did just before, it looks as though he’s sweating, he’s in a hurry, he passes by us, he sits down for a moment, his face is telling us something, what? what? He’s being watched, from a distance now, people approach, he moves away, we run, perhaps he needs us, perhaps or definitely, someone else arrives and then someone else, and then another one, we follow them, they look ill, or maybe they’re lost, maybe, we follow them, they laugh, they’ve got a strange laugh, are they really laughing? not quite, people don’t laugh like that, “excuse me, did you laugh?” one of them answers us, “yes,” he’s got a strange accent, we move closer, we listen to them, “what country are you from?” I turn around I see us I see myself I reply “from here” I walk, I walk, straight ahead and straight behind I walk and the more I get ahead the more I pull back and the more I see you looking at me

I see you

 

Black Fear

They have seen my feet
And I have seen their eyes
They didn’t open their mouths
And I could hear their eyes
They almost lifted their heads

And I saw their eyes

(eyes that slipped
Between Dream and Nightmare
Danger and Desire)

 

Bandages for All

                                    for Rokiah Dialo

Just give me
If you go
Something to believe
To suck on urgently
That looks like our volcanoes used to
That sings our praises
Something that looks like a World
Where Band-aids
Come in dark colors too

 

Rage Hiding Deep in a Hole

Rage hiding deep in a hole

Shall we become what we promised ourselves we would?

Who are you?
What are you doing here?
Where do you come from?

Laugh so as to see if

YOU are really what YOU are?

The fanfares have fallen away
Along with the night

Street lying on its belly
So clean
So white
So flat

And well-behaved

I am the new tenant
The skin on my ass is the baton’s target
BLACK
Walking in my new street / counting the 110 steps of my
BLACK
toes

Inside my new apartment building
Walking back up my new street
Nearly every day nearly

Everywhere HERE

The same fussy questions
Aimed at my forehead
Angering me

Rage hiding deep in a hole
Shall we STILL keep on
Repeating the same answers?
Pulling the same faces?
Singing the same cries

When across from

HERE

All around my new street
On every floor of my new apartment building
The same refrain

Returns as I appear?

And then

The fanfares have fallen away
Along with the night

 

Blue Rebirth

The original titles of these poems are written in Drehu, the language spoken on the island of Lifou (also known as Drehu).

Hna kuca kö    (What Must Be, Will Be)

Come let us be together
In ultimate oneness
Come let us redraw
Spirals on our rocks
To tattoo the Moon
Inside our secrets
Come let us say
That everything that happens
Happens because it must

 

Loi ju ë            (Enough, Already!)

We shall sleep no more on the pillow of echoing pathos

Nights of sowing whose flowers
Bring forth no praises

Of Silence
In a fiery circle
In herds
In vines clutching throats

Enough Yes Enough

Of promises where curving lips do not hold the dawn

Aborted into children’s games

Enough Yes Enough
We shall rest our foreheads no more
On memory’s breast
Not born from our laughter

And of those buried
As far off as possible

We say

At the rising of the Drums
Our eyes shall want to open
To a new now

 

Hnagejë          (Ocean)

When the rushing waves repeat
Horizontal
Blue as the eyes of a summer season sky
Faithful to the Silence
Faithful to the Perfume
Of the salt-tongued shores

The sea

Like an embrace
Like a respirator
Like a call

Enough to make us believe that Time

Will not catch us again in the trap
of Tomorrow or Before

 

Enyi     (Wind)

Give up everything you know

Let go of
Name Age Sex Past Future
Set them down for a moment
At the foot of the Bamboo stakes
Then deeply
Draw in your breath
And blow forth again and again

The seeds of a new flowering

Noir etbleu

Moi Noir de ma propre noir
Je le vois

Je le vois qui marche, il se pose, il reprend sa marche, il marche pas comme tout à l’heure, on a l’impression qu’il sue, qu’il est pressé, il passe à côté de nous, il s’assoit un moment, son visage nous dit quelque chose, quoi ? quoi ? On l’observe, de loin maintenant, on s’approche, il s’éloigne, on court, il a peut-être besoin de nous, peut-être ou sûrement, un autre arrive et puis encore un autre, et puis encore un autre, on les suis, ils ont l’air malades, ou peut-être qu’ils sont perdus, peut-être, on les suis, ils rigolent, ils ont un drôle de rire, est ce qu’ils rient vraiment ? pas tout à fait, on ne rit pas comme ça « excusez-moi, vous avez ri ? » l’un d’eux nous réponds « oui », il a un drôle d’accent, on s’approche, on l’écoute, « quel est votre pays ? » je me retourne je nous vois je me vois je réponds « ici »

Je marche, je marche, devant moi et derrière moi je marche et plus j’avance plus je recule et plus je te vois qui me regarde

Je te vois

 

Peur Noire

Ils ont vu mes pieds
et j’ai vu leurs yeux
Ils n’ont pas ouvert la bouche
et j’entendais leurs yeux
Ils ont presque levé la tête
et j’ai vu leurs yeux

(des yeux qui penchaient
entre Rêve et Cauchemar
Danger et Désir)

 

Pansement pour tous

             A Rokiah Dialo

Donnes moi juste
si tu t’en vas
quelque chose à croire
à téter d’urgence
qui ressemble à nos volcans jadis
qui chante des louanges pour nous autres
quelque chose qui ressemble à un Monde
où les sparadraps

existent aussi en sombre

 

La rage cachée au fond d’un trou

La rage cachée au fond d’un trou

deviendrons-nous ce que nous nous sommes promis ?

qui êtes vous ?
que faites vous ici ?
d’ou viens tu ?

rigoles pour voir si

VOUS êtes vraiment ce que VOUS êtes ?

les fanfares se sont tus
en même temps que la nuit

rue couchée sur le ventre
toute propre
toute blanche
toute plate
et sage

Je suis le nouveau locataire
j’ai la peau des fesses que la matraque abîme
NOIR
marche dans ma nouvelle rue/ compte les 110 pas de mes orteils
NOIRS
à l’intérieur de mon nouvel immeuble
remontant ma nouvelle rue
presque chaque jour presque
partout ICI
les mêmes questions bibiches
pointées sur mon front
me gonflent

La rage cachée au fond d’un trou

Continuerons-nous ENCORE
de répéter les mêmes réponses ?
de porter la même grimace ?
de chanter les mêmes hurlements

alors qu’en face

ICI

de tout les côtés de ma nouvelle rue
dans tout les étages de mon nouvel immeuble
le même refrain
se retourne à ma vue ?

Et puis

les fanfares se sont tus
en même temps que la nuit

 
Blue Rebirth
Hna kuca kö

Viens qu’on se conjugue
A l’intime unicité
Viens qu’on redessine
Des spirales sur nos rochers
Pour tatouer la Lune
Dans le dedans de nos secrets
Viens et nous dirons
Que tout ce qui arrive
Arrive parce qu’il doit arriver

 

Loi ju ë

Nous ne dormirons plus sur l’oreiller aux échos pathétiques
Des nuits de semences dont les fleurs
Ne donnent point de louanges

De Silence
En cercle de feux
En troupeaux
En lianes qui se tiennent par la gorge

Assez Oui Assez

Des promesses où l’embouchure des lèvres ne tiennent pas l’aube

Avortées en jeux d’enfants

Assez Oui Assez

Nous ne coucherons plus nos fronts
Sur le sein des mémoires
Non pas nées de nos rires

Et sur celles enterrées
Aussi loin que possible

Nous disons

C’est au lever des Tambours
Que nos yeux veulent s’ouvrir
D’un nouveau maintenant

 

Hnagejë

Quand la houle-foule se répète
Horizontale
Bleue comme les yeux d’un ciel de saisons chaude
Fidèle au Silence
Fidèle au Parfum
Des rivages aux langues de sel

La mer

Comme une étreinte
Comme un poumon de secours
Comme un appel
À nous faire croire que le Temps
Ne nous prendra plus au piège
Du Demain et de l’Avant

 

Enyi

Abandonner tout ce que l’on sait
Lâcher
Nom Age Sexe Passé Futur
Les déposer un moment
Aux pieds de tuteurs en Bambou
Puis profondément
Creuser sa respiration
Et semer souffle après souffle

Les germes d’une nouvelle floraison

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