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A Charming Little Square
Wednesday 24 March 2010
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Emailby Jacques Gaucheron
It was Sunday the weather was fine On the charming little square Near the mouth of the metro
We were a few friends Perhaps we knew that morning We'd need staying power
To sell newspapers that day And to defend at whatever cost Freedom of expression
There was a certain whiff of powder A nervousness about the city The paras had time on their hands
They came running looking for a fight Leather gloves on their hands Carrying truncheons and chains
And blood ran on the tarmac It was Sunday On the charming little square.
About the poet The French poet Jacques Gaucheron was born in 1920. Both his parents were primary school teachers. He spent much of his childhood in Chartres.
A veteran of the French artistic milieu, he was involved with Aragon and Eluard. He lives in Frette in a house he built himself.
This poem is from When The Metro Is Free (edited and translated by Alan Dent) and published by Smokestack Books.
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