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Neuilly-sur-seine, Ile de France, France
I was born in what is for me the most beautiful place on earth, an archipelago of a hundred and fifteen islands, a jewel lost in the middle of the Indien Ocean, the Seychelles Islands.I grew up in many different places, moving from harbour to harbour, in Madagascar, Haïti, Koweit and Burundi and finally settled in France where I have spent the most amazing moments of my life. My love for Photography rises from this constant change of envirronement, the desire to preserve the memories of other worlds... Most poems are translated from french to english for those of my friends who would feel lost/ Je suis née dans ce qui est certainement pour moi l'un des plus beaux endroits au monde, un archipel encore préservé de 115 îles, posé comme un bijou au milieu de l'Océan Indien, les Seychelles. J'ai été balladée de port en port entre Madagascar, HaÏti, le Koweit et Burundi, avant de finalement m' établir en France où j'ai passé les vingt plus belles années de ma vie. Mon amour de la photographie, je me l'explique par ce chanboulement permanent de cadre, comme l'envie de retenir à moi le souvenir d'un passage dans d'autres mondes.

Monday, October 19, 2009

Federico Garcia Lorca




Cette valse, valse, valse et valse
Oui, c’est la mort  et le cognac
Qui s’écoule lentement vers la mer
Je t’aime, je t’aime et te désire
Avec cette chaise et ton livre des morts
Dans le couloir de la mélancolie
L’obscur vestibule conduisant au Lys
De notre chambre aux amours lunaires
La la la, li la la...
Prends cette valse mon amour
et serre les dents 
À Vienne, il y a quatre miroirs
Aux échos de ton chant
Une joueuse éthérée au piano
Des jeunes hommes au sang bleu
Des mendiants dans les combles
Et des pleurs de cristal
La la la, li la la...
Prends cette valse mon amour et serre les dents.
(...)
Take This Waltz
Now in Vienna there's ten pretty women
There's a shoulder where Death comes to cry
There's a lobby with nine hundred windows
There's a tree where the doves go to die
There's a piece that was torn from the morning
And it hangs in the Gallery of Frost


















Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay

Take this waltz, take this waltz
Take this waltz with the clamp on its jaws

Oh I want you, I want you, I want you

On a chair with a dead magazine
In the cave at the tip of the lily
In some hallways where love's never been
On a bed where the moon has been sweating
In a cry filled with footsteps and sand
Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz
Take its broken waist in your hand

This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz

With its very own breath of brandy and Death
Dragging its tail in the sea

There's a concert hall in Vienna

Where your mouth had a thousand reviews
There's a bar where the boys have stopped talking
They've been sentenced to death by the blues
Ah, but who is it climbs to your picture
With a garland of freshly cut tears?
Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz
Take this waltz it's been dying for years

There's an attic where children are playing

Where I've got to lie down with you soon
In a dream of Hungarian lanterns
In the mist of some sweet afternoon
And I'll see what you've chained to your sorrow
All your sheep and your lilies of snow
Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz
With its "I'll never forget you, you know!"

This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz ...
And I'll dance with you in Vienna

I'll be wearing a river's disguise
The hyacinth wild on my shoulder,
My mouth on the dew of your thighs
And I'll bury my soul in a scrapbook,
With the photographs there, and the moss
And I'll yield to the flood of your beauty
My cheap violin and my cross
And you'll carry me down on your dancing
To the pools that you lift on your wrist
Oh my love, Oh my love
Take this waltz, take this waltz
It's yours now. It's all that there is








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