Adrenaline

19 Jul 2020

My Dearest Mad-readers,

Let me share a poem I translated with you. I found it tricky to translate, as I used some idiomatic expressions in the original French poem. Just like another poem of mine named Ghost, I adapted it more than I translated it. It makes more sense to me to adapt my work, rather than merely (literally) translate it. Perhaps one day I will write a blog post about translation and its intricacies... Anyway, back to the poem!

Facing the starting line,
I glimpse the horizon
whilst my fingers burn with sweat,
caressing the steering wheel,
and leaving a long trail 
of perspiration.

The checkered flag
soon will go down.

I fire up the engine,
and position my feet.
I seize the gearshift,
drunk with elation.

The engine snores,
my heart swells.
They are revving up,
then calming down, in sync,
when I let go 
of the gas pedal.

Pressure is burdening me,
but exaltation rules my body.
A question worries my mind
just like last time,
and the time before that.

The flag whips the wind.
I crush the accelerator
and race ahead.
I sweep my worries away
till next time,
in case I reach that sublime
finish line.

Thanks for stopping by and reading this post. I hope it was helpful ! If it was, feel free to like, comment, share &/or stick around for more. You can also follow my blog (via WordPress or Email) and be sure that even greater content is yet to come !

Take care,

Phil.