Traveller's tales...I'm a kiwi lad working my way around the world visiting family, making new friends and gazing at old stuff and wild stuff. I'm a writer, so I'm writing about it.

Thursday, October 18, 2007

Vendange poems (drafts)











Vendange (grape harvest) number 1 - Landiras

Team of twenty
walking ranges of Merlot
secateurs - snip, snip
graps fall to les paniers
the porteur, straining in sud-ouest sun
grapes on his back,
loaded heavy as a beast


Dix-sept a la table pour dejenuer
Parlons francais, francais, francais
Lo espagnole et moi sommes silencieux

(seventeen at the table for lunch
they speak french, french, french
me and the spanish girl are silent)

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Vendange #2 - Sauterne

We are working for unknowns
pas nourri ni lodgè*

we harvest grapes with mould as grey as the mist°
that rises every morning

as a porteur climbs to empty his hotte
the ladder slides from under his legs
his chest bears the weight of the grapes
and presses against the steel edge of the trailer

Now he groans alone on the grass
we keep working.

*without food or lodging: the new convention for vendange work
°Sauterne wine made from grapes, harvested late with 'the noble rot' which is meant to concentrate the sugars. It is a very sweet wine.

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