Ou se/ You are

7 12 2011

Ou se tanbou ki fè m danse gouyad lamizè

Sèl dezi ki pousem fè pwogrè

Ou se souri ki fè odinatè m fonksyone

Kout bagèt ki ka fè m ponpe

Ou se de bouton radyo m

Krèm ki anbeli gato m

Ou se panno kay mwen

Grenn klou ki kloure fèy tol mwen

Ou se alam ki reveye m

Ou se seleri nan soup mwen

Le maten ou se la wouze m

Se sèl ou ki ka toup pou mwen

Ou se kle ki satiyèt machin lavi m

Sèl papiyon ki poze sou flè m

Ou se zeklè aprè kout tonè m

Sèl kout kreyon ki trase plan lavi m

Ou se prefas ak fèy nan liv mwen

Ou se gom nan kreyon m

Ou se mezirèt nan gildiv mwen

Nan sos mwen, ou se sèl salezon

Nan selil mwen ou se nwayo

Nan bouyon m ou se tayo

Nan lanmè m ou se soumaren

Pou ou m prèt poum fè tenten

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You are the drum that makes me dance gouyad lamizè

The sole desire that inspires me to progress

You’re the mouse that makes my computer work

You’re the rhythm that pumps me up

You’re the button on my radio

The frosting embellishing my cake

You’re the wall of my home

The nails that fasten down my sheet metal roof

You’re the alarm that wakes me up

You’re the celery in my soup

You’re my morning dew

You’re the only thing that’s everything for me

You’re the key that starts the vehicle of my life

The only butterfly to rest on my flower

You’re the lightning to my thunder

The only pencil that can trace the plan of my life.

You’re the preface and pages of my book

You’re the eraser on my pencil

You’re the measuring spoon in my kleren distillery

In my sauce, you are the only seasoning

In my cell, you are the nucleus

In my soup, you are the malanga root

In my sea you are the submarine

For you, I am ready to do anything.

— Wesline CICERON





Fanm/Women

12 03 2011
Nou se manman yon peyi
Atout se fanm ki bay lavi
Yo ban n’ tout non pote
Tankou atagaz, m’ fèl deja, FKD
Men yo bliye si se nan kot yo nou soti
E n’ap toujou rete poto mitan yon fanmi
Lave se nou, pase se nou
Nan kizin nou bon
Sou kabann nou pi bon
Lè rete yo rele’n choukoun
Pou yo ka jwenn ti bouboun
Tout pasyon yo se fanm
y’ap fout fou pou fant janm
Epi se fanm yo pi maltrete
Yo gade’n pi mal ke salte
Fanmn, malgre y’ap fèn pase tray
Nou pap janm dekouraje
N’ap kontinye batay
pou dwa nou respekte

—  CICERON Wesline

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We are the mother of the country

It is women who give life to all.

Yet they call us all kinds of names,

Like atagaz, “I’ve already had her,” and “hit-and-run.”

But they forget that we were made of their ribs

And that we remain the cornerstone of the family.

Washing – that’s us.  Ironing – that’s us.

We’re good in the kitchen

We’re even better in bed.

Men call us “honey,”

Just to get in our honey-pot.

We’re the object of all their passion,

They go crazy to get between our legs

Yet it is women who are the most mistreated

They treat us like we’re less than dirt

We women, though they put us through hell

Will never be discouraged

We will continue to fight

For our rights to be respected.

— Wesline CICERON





Istwa damou/Love Story

18 02 2011

tout te komanse jou w’ tap admire m’

Ou te ranvèse kèm, ou te chavire lespri

ou te prèske fèm pèdi tèt mwen

kounya lanmou nou tankou yon flè ki pap janm fennen

lap grandi de jou an jou

Depi lèw antre nan kèm, tout pòt li fèmen, tout bagay vin change

M fè sam pat janm panse

Nan braw mwen vle rete pou tout letènite, pouw sukrem chak jou pi plis

Lanmouw brilem tankou flanmn solèy

Li vin pi bel ke akansyèl

Lèm avèw kèm poze, se tankoum nan paradi

ou vire lòlòj mwen

Kotew ye se la lesprim ye tou

An verite, si lanmou te prizon mwen tap kondane avèw pou tout rès vim

— Ciceron Wesline





Wesline Ciceron

12 02 2011

Age: 22

La Plaine

Nonm se Ciceron Wesline, mwen fèt pòtoprens, mwen gen 22 zan , mwen abite chada (plaine). Mwen tèmine etid klasik mwen, mwen se yon elektrisyèn. kounya map travay pou etid inivèsitè. manmanm gen 8 pitit( 5 fi, 3 gason)  mwen se 5ièm. mwen gen yon chat ki renmen manje sourit anpil





Ayiti/Haiti

10 02 2011

Ala yon ti peyi se Ayiti

Lontan yo te rele l pèldezanti

Kounye a, telman l’ soufri

Li pa menm ka tounen yon pakoti

Gen swadizan peyi ki di yo vin ede l’

Epoutan se peye yo vin peye l’

Yo antre nan tout kwen nan jaden

Pou yo vole ti richès nou genyen

Pote ale tout sa nou posede

Nou la ap founi je gade

Epi fyetèl ap degrade

Fòn di ase, ase

Fòk sa chanje

Nou paka rete bra kwaze

Poun kite Ayiti fin kraze

Fòk nou tout leve kanpe

Poun di wi, sèt ase

Fòk Ayiti tounen yon paradi

Pou timoun kap grandi jwi.

— CICERON Wesline

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Oh, Haiti, such a small country.
Long ago called the Pearl of the Antilles.
Now, see how it suffers:

It can’t even be called junk.
All these countries supposedly came to help,
But all they are doing is making money.
They come into a corner of our garden,
To steal our wealth,
To carry away everything we own
Ourselves, we’ll keep watching,
While our pride degrades.
We have to say “Enough, enough!”
This must change
We cannot stay with our arms crossed in indifference,
Letting Haiti be destroyed.
We must all stand up
We may say yes, it has been enough!
Haiti must become a paradise
For children to grow up in joy.

—  Wesline CICERON