“Memories of Louisiana” by Myriam Descendres

Melvin Potier called ‘Melisse’, April 1926

As the evening drowns the last rays of hope over the old mire of those sad waters, Melisse plays the harmonica, lost in his head. Stubborn, he never came out of it since the end of the war. His silence, transcended by the long complaint of the instrument…

His back to that old trunk of wood, head down to protect his eyes from the last sunlight, he breathes, then plays. And breathes again. The notes of the instrument never failing him each single eve. The air smells like only the marshes from the south know how to exhale. A green clay, salty, with therapeutic, even mystical properties, it is said around. Go find out.

Melisse knows it well, he who talks to frogs, but he speaks no more, he plays; his joy plays for him; a hoarse joy no doubt; muddy tears. Old memories of trenches, when some come back for another morning, still alive…

Melisse plays, the bog lives, the saturniids, the halo of the lantern, like Phaeton’s sun. Between each complaint, Melisse breathes out his melody. The dawn still finding a way.

Now enjoy the passage in French!

Souvenir de Louisiane

Melvin Potier dit Melisse, avril 1926

   Le soir noie de ses derniers rayons le vieux marécage aux eaux tristes. Comme toujours, Melisse joue de l’harmonica, perdu dans sa tête. Têtu, il n’en est plus jamais ressorti depuis la fin de la guerre. Son mutisme transcendé par la longue plainte de l’instrument.

   Le dos au tronc, la tête légèrement ployée, il respire. Et joue, et respire de nouveau. Joue encore, chaque soir. L’air embaume comme seuls les marais du sud savent exhaler. Une glaise verte, limoneuse, aux propriétés thérapeutiques, voire mystiques, dit-on par ici. Allez savoir.  

   Melisse le sait bien. Lui qui parle aux grenouilles. Mais il parle plus; il joue; sa joie joue pour lui; une joie rauque; crevassée; de l’écorce. Comme ces ponceaux par-dessus les tranchées. Quelque fois, on revenait au matin, survivre une aube nouvelle.

   Melisse joue, le marais vit, les saturnidés, le halo du fanal, comme phatéon le soleil. Entre chaque plainte, Melisse souffle sa mélopée.  L’aurore saura bien trouver son chemin.

Copyright © 2022 Miriam Descendres

All Rights Reserved

Myriam Descendres

A young transgender female and poetess 

at bay in her world of impressions, furtive flash

and melancholy. A black and white vision

marked by borderline, anxiety, and yes… love.

You can find Myriam on Twitter @13rrance

or wandering my garden on WordPress at arg808.wordpress.com.

Featured Image: An original digital art piece by o’Wisp, who can be found at @Lilly_wisp (Mostly unused) and at Instagram @wisp.x8finity.

Editor: Barbara Harris Leonhard

Amazon Best-Selling Author

Three-Penny Memories: A Poetic Memoir (EIF-Experiments in Fiction, 2022)

Pushcart Nominee, 2022

Send Submissions to meelosmom@gmail.com

Facebook: Barbara Harris Leonhard /barbara.leonhard

Twitter: @BarbaraLeonhar4

Instagram: @meelosmom123

Linked In: ExtraordinarySunshineWeaver


Divider Image: by GDJ on Pixabay

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12 Comentarios Agrega el tuyo

  1. 13rrance dice:

    It’s absolutely fantastic to see my text in here! Thank you Barbara for that incredible time.

    A great holidays to you dear Barbara, and all the readers / publishers / artists at MasticadoreUSA

    Myriam 🧡🧡🍊🍊🧡🧡

    Le gusta a 2 personas

    1. I’m so honored to feature your work, Myriam! I look forward to future submissions. 💐

      Le gusta a 1 persona

      1. 13rrance dice:

        Thank you, it make for a very warm heart today! 💗🤗💗

        Le gusta a 1 persona

  2. Congratulations Myriam! Wonderful work! ❣️

    Le gusta a 2 personas

    1. 13rrance dice:

      Thank you mlle Cindy! I really appreciate your nice comment, and the wonderful chance I have to write story! 💗💗💗

      Oh! May you and your family have a beautiful Christmas Time. ❄❄❄

      Le gusta a 2 personas

      1. You are so welcome! Happy for you! Exciting and thanks so much! 💞

        Le gusta a 2 personas

  3. jonicaggiano dice:

    What a lovely picture you paint. It is very much like a bayou, I can see it as you write. Congratulations by the way for this lovely publication. I particularly loves this:

    «Melisse knows it well, he who talks to frogs, but he speaks no more, he plays; his joy plays for him; a hoarse joy no doubt; muddy tears. Old memories of trenches, when some come back for another morning, still alive…»

    What a truly gorgeous treat! Have a blessed day! Joni PS I will find you on Twitter

    Le gusta a 2 personas

    1. 13rrance dice:

      Oh! I’m beyond humbled by your nice comment. I am very happy that the story resonated with you. I thank you kindly for your nice compliments mlle.

      When I wrote that piece I was very inspired by a documentary of survivor of the first world war. Archives images showed the various form of PTSD those men’s suffered when coming back in hospitals. It was breath taking.

      I was also reading poetry by Edmund Blunden, a english poet who was mobilised to the front. His poetry is very sad, and full of life at the same time.

      Again, I can only thank you for your nice comment, and the time you took to read my work. It make me very happy.

      I wish you a nice holiday and blessings for the new years that come. May it be peaceful. 🌺🌺

      Le gusta a 1 persona

    2. 13rrance dice:

      Ps: I try to be less and less on twitter actually. Only passing by furtively. But I followed your Blog, which seem interesting! Thank you again mlle Joni 🌺

      Le gusta a 1 persona

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