The sun carresses this granite isle
Where quietness rules the day.
The other world is sometimes grim,
here we smile, it is the Seychelles way.
Morne Seychellois stands tall, touching his cloud
Guarding, watching, massive and proud.
While flying foxes, sea birds, giant tortoises roam
Making this peaceful green island their home.
Red earth roads scurry through verdant hills
Clinging to mountains with desperate wills.
Sometimes destroyed by furious rains,
Making cataracts where there are no drains.
In Victoria, the Cathedral clock strikes twice at noon
Reminding time – move on, slowly, well soon!
Why hurry, there’s time to do what is to be done
And time goes slower if you stand, so much quicker if you run.
We trade with the world, who know not quite where we are
Vanilla, salt fish, green snails, beche de mer, copra
Go to far distant lands with a skilled sailors ease,
In schooners creaking slowly through fickle green seas.
Praslin Island is not too far away
The Garden of Eden, General Gordon did say
With the Coco de Mer in the Valley de Mai
Black parrots, peace and the silence of creation day
No airstrip yet intrudes and defiles
These untouched, unique, so, so beautiful isles.
Though there will be one soon, I’ver heard them say
Sadly, progress will change the quiet Seychelles way
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem