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Henry Bishop, commended
(14-and-under prize)
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Dors mon enfant

Dors mon enfant dors
Quand tu dors

Tu es beau

Comme un oranger fleuri.

Dors mon enfant dors
Dors comme
La mer haute

Caressée par les clapotis

De la brise

Qui vient mourir en woua-woua

Au pied de la plage sablonneuse.

Dors mon enfant dors

Dors mon beau bébé noir

Comme la promesse

D’une nuit de lune

Au regard de l’aube

Qui naît sur ton sommeil.


Dors mon enfant dors

Tu es si beau

Quand tu dors

Mon beau bébé noir dors.


Elalongué Epanya Yondo
Sleep My Child

Sleep my child, sleep!
When you are asleep
You are beautiful
Like the blossoming orange tree

Sleep my child, sleep!
Sleep
As the high seas
Massaged like the water lapping,
Which has just died in swish-swosh,
At the shoreline of the sandy beach

Sleep my child, sleep!
Sleep my adorable black baby
Like the promise
On a moonlit night
Of watching dawn
Which is born on your slumber

Sleep my child, sleep!
You are so beautiful
When you sleep
My adorable black baby, sleep!


Translated from the French by Henry Bishop
  [Commentary on the poem by the translator]   



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