A waffle saw me through French class in which Christophe
Bunduki, professeur, inspired us with his energy, listening
to taped conversations without text proved yet again I hear
only vowels that sing
Without seeing written words I can't hear consonants acting
as stops and explosives or whispers inserting breaks in the
musical stream and everything becomes ‘aaa-euh-auh-
oou-iee-auu'
To me, I cannot hear separate terms in the sound stream,
French is lovely to listen to - yet without the lines written
in front of me, it is only songs without meaning - yet filled
with feeling of course…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem