Tuesday 26 February 2013

Eloise - Polyglot poetry

Für Eloise


When she was just a little child and learned to say my name
Eloise would call to me to join her in a game.

"Papa!" she'd say, "Papa! Papa! Allons! Enfin! Vite!"
in so imperious a way, and stamp her little feet.

"Ja, ich komme, Liebling", I'd tell her in reply
and rush to do her bidding, no need to tell you why.

This perfect little creature, so vibrant yet serene
was everything I'd hoped for, the cutest thing I'd seen.

So if I seem enamoured you must forgive me please.
There's nothing I would not have done for my sweet Eloise.




Kommen Sie Hier


"Zu Papa komm, mein Liebling,"
I'd say to my little girl
and she'd come across to where I sat
with a run, a skip and a twirl.

She'd scramble up upon my knee
with a radiant confident smile
and throw her arms around my neck
as time stood still for a while.

"Du bist mein ein und alles".
"Naturellement!" she'd cry
and placing her little nose on mine
she'd look me in the eye.

"Tu me traites avec tendresse,
mon gentil Papa!"
But how could I do anything less?
C'est paternité, n'est-ce pas?


The Fishing Cat


I loved to read to Eloise
I would see the words afresh
and one of her favourite stories
was called Le Chat Qui Pêche.**

It's all about a cat that was
as curious as my daughter
who finally went a bit too far
and fell into the water.

I used it as a warning but
she didn't care for that
and one day learned her lesson
in the same way as the cat.

"Oh, Papa", she said in jest
"Je suis mauvais sujet!"
"Ja, liebling, aber macht nichts!
I love you anyway."



Es ist Wunderbar.


One day when I took Eloise
to see the local zoo
she was extremely taken
with a bounding kangaroo.

Wide eyed she watched, then said, "Papa!
Regard! Cet animal!
C'est vraiment l'animal comique,
il bond de même qu'une balle!"

There was no arguing with that!
I said, "Ja, das ist wahr."
She turned to me and with a grin
said, "Es ist wunderbar!"



Desolée


She dressed up for the party
but no-one came to call;
Eloise stood in her very best dress,
there in the empty hall.

"Oh Papa, je suis desolée,"
she said to me at last;
her body slowly drooping,
her features quite downcast.

"Cherie, cherie, mein Liebling",
I stammered, " Komm zu mir!"
and very gently drew her close
and wiped away a tear.

I held her as she quietly sobbed:
"Pourquoi personne n'arrive?"
For once I had no answers and
could only watch her grieve.



Not Tonight


"Ich liebe dich, I love you "
I often used to say
and she'd reply "Je t'aime, je t'aime,"*
in her own special way
"Wo gehst du hin?"  I'd ask her
- not seriously though -
just to hear her answer;
I didn't need to know.
"Veux-tu danser, cher papa,
en disco avec moi?"
I'd shake my head, return her smile
and answer "Pas ce soir.

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