Vacation par Rita Dove<\/h2>\n
\u00ab\u00a0Vacation\u00a0\u00bb de Rita Dove capture une phase sp\u00e9cifique, souvent n\u00e9glig\u00e9e, d’un voyage : la p\u00e9riode d’attente avant le d\u00e9part. Ce po\u00e8me transforme le cadre banal d’une porte d’embarquement d’a\u00e9roport en un espace liminal, un \u00ab\u00a0intervalle sans temps, sans foyer\u00a0\u00bb.<\/p>\n
I love the hour before takeoff,\nthat stretch of no time, no home\nbut the gray vinyl seats linked like\nunfolding paper dolls. Soon we shall\nbe summoned to the gate, soon enough\nthere\u2019ll be the clumsy procedure of row numbers\nand perforated stubs\u2014but for now\nI can look at these ragtag nuclear families\nwith their cooing and bickering\nor the heeled bachelorette trying\nto ignore a baby\u2019s wail and the baby\u2019s\nexhausted mother waiting to be called up early\nwhile the athlete, one monstrous hand\nasleep on his duffel bag, listens,\nperched like a seal trained for the plunge.\nEven the lone executive\nwho has wandered this far into summer\nwith his lasered itinerary, briefcase\nknocking his knees\u2014even he\nhas worked for the pleasure of bearing\nno more than a scrap of himself\ninto this hall. He\u2019ll dine out, she\u2019ll sleep late,\nthey\u2019ll let the sun burn them happy all morning\u2014\na little hope, a little whimsy\nbefore the loudspeaker blurts\nand we leap up to become\nFlight 828, now boarding at Gate 17.<\/code><\/pre>\n(Dove, Rita. \u201cVacation.\u201d Poets.org, American Academy of Poets, https:\/\/poets.org\/poem\/vacation<\/a>)<\/em><\/p>\nCe po\u00e8me de voyage se concentre sur la communaut\u00e9 partag\u00e9e et transitoire form\u00e9e par les voyageurs. Dove observe les divers individus et groupes unis seulement par leur destination commune et l’anticipation partag\u00e9e du d\u00e9part. L’image de personnes se d\u00e9pouillant de leur quotidien, ne portant \u00ab\u00a0pas plus qu’un fragment\u00a0\u00bb, met en \u00e9vidence le potentiel du voyage pour une lib\u00e9ration temporaire de la routine et des attentes. C’est un moment charg\u00e9 de possibilit\u00e9s, une respiration silencieuse avant le saut litt\u00e9ral et figur\u00e9 dans l’exp\u00e9rience du voyage elle-m\u00eame.<\/p>\n
If You Were in Cairo par Simon Constam<\/h2>\n
Le po\u00e8me de Simon Constam explore le th\u00e8me de la connexion qui transcende la distance g\u00e9ographique, accentu\u00e9 par le fait de faire un voyage. Les vastes distances mentionn\u00e9es\u2014le Caire, Kampala, Phoenix, La Havane, Sa\u00efgon, Phnom Penh, Tuvalu\u2014soulignent le d\u00e9sir in\u00e9branlable du locuteur de rester pr\u00e8s d’un \u00eatre cher, peu importe \u00e0 quel point leurs voyages les emm\u00e8nent loin.<\/p>\n
If you were in Cairo, and I in Kampala;\nif you took to Phoenix, and I to Havana;\nif you sojourned in Saigon, and I in Phnom Penh\neven that short distance would deeply offend.\nAnd seeing as how I\u2019d want to stay close to you,\nI\u2019d find every which way to stay in touch with you.\n\nIf you moved to Tuvalu, to live or to work,\nAnd email was stalled and the phones didn\u2019t work.\nI\u2019d train clever pigeons to soar up above,\nto faithfully reach you with my missives of love.\n\nI\u2019d vouchsafe a letter with a monk in a monastery.\nI\u2019d entrust my love note to an Amazon missionary.\nI\u2019d hire a Sherpa to mountain climb after you\non Everest, on Lhotse, Nanga Parbat or K2\u2026\n\nI would do anything to keep myself close to you.\nI\u2019d learn Swahili, Hindi, and even Urdu.\nNo hurdle of language I\u2019d have to confront,\ncould ever deter my untiring want.\n\nYou can travel as far and as long as you like\nby plane, train, or boat, by car or by bike.\nI\u2019d find a way, some way, to reach out to you,\nI\u2019d even use snail mail if I absolutely had to.\n\nIf you flew supersonically out into the blue,\nI\u2019d radio the pilot to tell you I love you.\nIf you pined for space travel and lived in the shuttle,\nand our back and forth was a quite public muddle,\nand officials below and your crewmates above\nhad all grown quite tired of such raging, unending, fulsome, embarrassing love,\n\nno matter the trouble I\u2019d have surely incurred,\nI\u2019d carry on calling, could not be deterred by\npleading from NASA, complaints or protests,\nthey\u2019d have to come get me, put me under arrest.\n\nIf not-talking was something that you took a vow for,\nI\u2019d read to you, sing to you, whatever you\u2019d need me to.\nI\u2019d learn to lip read and learn to sign too\nThere\u2019s really no end to what I would do.\n\nI\u2019d follow you through darkness.\nI\u2019d follow you through rain.\nMy daily attention might drive you insane.\n\nHave I made my point clear? You have nothing to fear\nI\u2019m resourceful enough to keep loving you.\n\nSo great is my love, I am indefatigable .\nWhen it comes to you, love,\nI can\u2019t stop loving you!<\/code><\/pre>\nCe po\u00e8me de voyage utilise l’hyperbole et l’humour pour souligner le pouvoir de la connexion sur fond de voyages mondiaux \u00e9tendus. Il sugg\u00e8re que si un voyage peut s\u00e9parer physiquement les personnes, les liens d’amour et de d\u00e9termination peuvent combler n’importe quelle distance, m\u00eame \u00e0 travers les continents ou dans l’espace. La liste vari\u00e9e de lieux met en \u00e9vidence l’\u00e9tendue des voyages potentiels, les contrastant avec la concentration singuli\u00e8re du locuteur sur le maintien de la proximit\u00e9. ![\"Sc\u00e8ne](\"https:\/\/latrespace.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/05\/cairobazaar-700x394.webp\")
Sc\u00e8ne de rue anim\u00e9e dans un bazar du Caire, illustrant les d\u00e9cors \u00e9voqu\u00e9s dans des po\u00e8mes comme 'If You Were in Cairo'<\/em>Une sc\u00e8ne de rue anim\u00e9e dans un bazar du Caire, illustrant les d\u00e9cors \u00e9voqu\u00e9s dans des po\u00e8mes de voyage comme ‘If You Were in Cairo’.<\/p>\nSelf-Portrait on the Street of an Unnamed Foreign City par Jennifer Grotz<\/h2>\n
Le po\u00e8me de Jennifer Grotz capture la nature introspective de voyager seul, en particulier dans une ville \u00e9trang\u00e8re. L’anonymat d’un tel cadre permet une forme unique d’auto-r\u00e9flexion.<\/p>\n
The lettering on the shop window in which\nyou catch a glimpse of yourself is in Polish.\n\nBehind you a man quickly walks by, nearly shouting\ninto his cell phone. Then a woman\n\nat a dreamier pace, carrying a just-bought bouquet\nupside-down. All on a street where pickpockets abound\n\nalong with the ubiquitous smell of something baking.\nIt is delicious to be anonymous on a foreign city street.\n\nWho knew this could be a life, having languages\ninstead of relationships, struggling even then,\n\nfinding out what it means to be a woman\nby watching the faces of men passing by.\n\nI went to distant cities, it almost didn\u2019t matter\nwhich, so primed was I to be reverent.\n\nAll of them have the beautiful bridge\ncrossing a grey, near-sighted river,\n\none that massages the eyes, focuses\nthe swooping birds that skim the water\u2019s surface.\n\nThe usual things I didn\u2019t pine for earlier\nbecause I didn\u2019t know I wouldn\u2019t have them.\n\nI spent so much time alone, when I actually turned lonely\nit was vertigo.\n\nMyself estranged is how I understood the world.\nMy ignorance had saved me, my vices fueled me,\n\nand then I turned forty. I who love to look and look\ncouldn\u2019t see what others did.\n\nNow I think about currencies, linguistic equivalents, how lop-sided they are, while\nmy reflection blurs in the shop windows.\n\nWanting to be as far away as possible exactly as much as still with you.\nShamelessly entering a Starbucks (free wifi) to write this.<\/code><\/pre>\n(Grotz, Jennifer. \u201cSelf-Portrait on the Street of an Unnamed Foreign City.\u201d Poets.org, American Academy of Poets, https:\/\/poets.org\/poem\/self-portrait-street-unnamed-foreign-city<\/a>)<\/em><\/p>\nCe po\u00e8me de voyage explore les dualit\u00e9s du voyage : le d\u00e9sir de distance et d’anonymat face \u00e0 l’attrait de la connexion ; la richesse sensorielle d’un nouveau lieu face au sentiment d’\u00e9tranget\u00e9. La locutrice observe l’environnement \u00e9tranger et ses habitants, mais aussi sa propre r\u00e9flexion, utilisant le voyage comme un miroir pour une introspection interne. La mention de l’entr\u00e9e dans un Starbucks ancre l’exp\u00e9rience dans une r\u00e9alit\u00e9 moderne et relatable, contrastant l’id\u00e9al romantique de l’exploration \u00e9trang\u00e8re avec les aspects pratiques du voyage aujourd’hui. Ce po\u00e8me souligne \u00e0 quel point un voyage peut \u00eatre autant un p\u00e9riple int\u00e9rieur qu’un p\u00e9riple physique. ![\"Une](\"https:\/\/latrespace.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/05\/untitled-design-54.webp\")
Une personne avec un sac \u00e0 dos marchant dans une rue anim\u00e9e, symbolisant l'introspection et l'anonymat d'un voyage solo dans une ville \u00e9trang\u00e8re.<\/em>Une personne avec un sac \u00e0 dos marchant dans une rue anim\u00e9e, symbolisant l’introspection et l’anonymat v\u00e9cus lors d’un voyage en solo dans une ville \u00e9trang\u00e8re.<\/p>\nViaggiate (Travel) par Gio Evan<\/h2>\n
La pi\u00e8ce puissante de Gio Evan, souvent partag\u00e9e pour son message motivant, consid\u00e8re le voyage non seulement comme un loisir mais comme une n\u00e9cessit\u00e9 vitale pour la croissance personnelle et soci\u00e9tale. Ce po\u00e8me de voyage affirme que sans l’exp\u00e9rience du voyage, on risque de devenir \u00e9troit d’esprit et craintif.<\/p>\n
Try to travel, otherwise you may become racist, and you may end up believing that your skin is the only one to be right, that your language is the most romantic and that you were the first to be the first. Travel, because if you don't travel then your thoughts won\u2019t be strengthened, won\u2019t get filled with ideas. Your dreams will be born with fragile legs and then you end up believing in tv-shows, and in those who invent enemies that fit perfectly with your nightmares to make you live in terror. Travel, because travel teaches to say good morning to everyone regardless of which sun we come from. Travel, because travel teaches to say goodnight to everyone regardless of the darkness that we carry inside. Travel, because traveling teaches to resist, not to depend, to accept others, not just for who they are but also for what they can never be. To know what we are capable of, to feel part of a family beyond borders, beyond traditions and culture. Traveling teaches us to be beyond. Travel, otherwise you end up believing that you are made only for a panorama and instead inside you there are wonderful landscapes still to visit.<\/code><\/pre>\n(Original italien fourni dans la source, ceci est la traduction anglaise.)<\/em><\/p>\nCe po\u00e8me de voyage est une exhortation directe, utilisant la r\u00e9p\u00e9tition (\u00ab\u00a0Voyage, parce que…\u00a0\u00bb) pour cr\u00e9er de l’urgence. Il relie directement l’acte de faire un voyage au d\u00e9veloppement de l’empathie, de la pens\u00e9e critique et de la r\u00e9silience. En s’exposant \u00e0 diff\u00e9rentes cultures et perspectives, le voyage \u00e9largit l’esprit et remet en question les croyances insulaires. Les derni\u00e8res lignes offrent une belle m\u00e9taphore : tout comme il y a des paysages \u00e0 visiter \u00e0 l’ext\u00e9rieur, il y a de merveilleux paysages en nous que seul le voyage peut nous aider \u00e0 d\u00e9couvrir. Cette perspective positionne le voyage comme un outil pour une profonde exploration int\u00e9rieure et une lib\u00e9ration.<\/p>\n
Consolation par Billy Collins<\/h2>\n
Billy Collins, connu pour son style accessible et souvent humoristique, offre un contrepoint \u00e0 la glorification habituelle du voyage dans \u00ab\u00a0Consolation\u00a0\u00bb. Ce po\u00e8me de voyage c\u00e9l\u00e8bre les plaisirs tranquilles de rester chez soi, trouvant la richesse et le confort dans le familier plut\u00f4t que de les chercher dans l’exotique.<\/p>\n
How agreeable it is not to be touring Italy this summer,\nwandering her cities and ascending her torrid hilltowns.\nHow much better to cruise these local, familiar streets,\nfully grasping the meaning of every roadsign and billboard\nand all the sudden hand gestures of my compatriots.\n\nThere are no abbeys here, no crumbling frescoes or famous\ndomes and there is no need to memorize a succession\nof kings or tour the dripping corners of a dungeon.\nNo need to stand around a sarcophagus, see Napoleon\u2019s\nlittle bed on Elba, or view the bones of a saint under glass.\n\nHow much better to command the simple precinct of home\nthan be dwarfed by pillar, arch, and basilica.\nWhy hide my head in phrase books and wrinkled maps?\nWhy feed scenery into a hungry, one-eyes camera\neager to eat the world one monument at a time?\n\nInstead of slouching in a caf\u00e9 ignorant of the word for ice,\nI will head down to the coffee shop and the waitress\nknown as Dot. I will slide into the flow of the morning\npaper, all language barriers down,\nrivers of idiom running freely, eggs over easy on the way.\n\nAnd after breakfast, I will not have to find someone\nwilling to photograph me with my arm around the owner.\nI will not puzzle over the bill or record in a journal\nwhat I had to eat and how the sun came in the window.\nIt is enough to climb back into the car\n\nas if it were the great car of English itself\nand sounding my loud vernacular horn, speed off\ndown a road that will never lead to Rome, not even Bologna.<\/code><\/pre>\n(Collins, Billy. \u201cConsolation.\u201d Poetry Foundation, Poetry Magazine, July 1991, https:\/\/www.poetryfoundation.org\/poetrymagazine\/issue\/71257\/july-1991<\/a>.)<\/em><\/p>\nCe po\u00e8me, pr\u00e9sent\u00e9 comme un choix d\u00e9lib\u00e9r\u00e9 de ne pas<\/em> faire un voyage sp\u00e9cifique, fonctionne comme un type unique de po\u00e8me de voyage. En contrastant les conforts familiers de la maison avec les stress potentiels et la banalit\u00e9 des pi\u00e8ges \u00e0 touristes du voyage \u00e9tranger, Collins d\u00e9finit implicitement ce qu’un certain type de voyage est<\/em> (ou n’est pas). Il trouve de la joie dans la facilit\u00e9 de compr\u00e9hension, l’absence de performance (\u00ab\u00a0cam\u00e9ra affam\u00e9e \u00e0 un \u0153il\u00a0\u00bb), et les interactions simples et authentiques qui sont souvent plus difficiles \u00e0 trouver lors de la navigation dans un environnement \u00e9tranger. C’est un rappel que si les voyages offrent une \u00e9vasion, il y a aussi une valeur profonde dans le monde que nous habitons d\u00e9j\u00e0.<\/p>\nDislocation par Simon Constam<\/h2>\n
L’extrait de \u00ab\u00a0Dislocation\u00a0\u00bb de Simon Constam explore la r\u00e9alit\u00e9 moins glamour, souvent difficile, des voyages prolong\u00e9s. Il parle de l’incertitude int\u00e9rieure qui peut survenir lorsque le frisson initial d’\u00eatre dans un lieu \u00e9tranger s’estompe.<\/p>\n
> I envy those who envy me for traveling.\n> Sometimes I sit on a foreign street in a busy cafe,\n> imagining you wishing you were here,\n> feeling for the first time the thrilling flush\n> of wanting to be elsewhere,\n> the frisson of happiness that wishes bring.\n> And so I sit quietly knowing that now\n> it\u2019s time to figure out just what it is\n> I meant to do here.<\/code><\/pre>\nCe fragment de po\u00e8me de voyage capture le sentiment d’\u00eatre physiquement pr\u00e9sent dans un lieu exotique tout en \u00e9prouvant un sentiment de d\u00e9connexion ou d’absence de but. Il remet en question la perception commune selon laquelle le voyage n’est qu’excitation et d\u00e9couverte constantes. Le locuteur r\u00e9fl\u00e9chit \u00e0 l’envie des autres, reconnaissant l’attrait per\u00e7u du voyage, mais est confront\u00e9 \u00e0 la t\u00e2che tranquille et difficile de confronter sa propre pr\u00e9sence et son but pendant<\/em> le voyage. Il met en \u00e9vidence le voyage comme un \u00e9tat qui peut r\u00e9v\u00e9ler des questions internes autant que des merveilles externes. Une personne avec un sac \u00e0 dos marchant dans une rue anim\u00e9e, symbolisant l'introspection et l'anonymat d'un voyage solo dans une ville \u00e9trang\u00e8re.<\/em>Une personne avec un sac \u00e0 dos marchant dans une rue anim\u00e9e, symbolisant l’introspection et l’anonymat v\u00e9cus lors d’un voyage en solo dans une ville \u00e9trang\u00e8re.<\/p>\nLearning to Travel par Julene Tripp Weaver<\/h2>\n
\u00ab\u00a0Learning to Travel\u00a0\u00bb de Julene Tripp Weaver d\u00e9peint magnifiquement l’immersion profonde que peut faciliter un voyage lent et de longue dur\u00e9e. Il souligne comment un voyage, pris sans h\u00e2te, permet une connexion authentique avec un lieu et ses habitants.<\/p>\n
> She will learn French,\n> enough to greet and shop become known.\n> A French baker befriends her.\n> After a long summer\n> she stays on into the fall\n> writes poems, picks wild herbs.\n> An old woman cooks with her.\n> They sit in silence\n> while the sun sets. In the evenings\n> she lights candles, when hungry\n> they share bread and cheese.\n>\n> A circus comes to town,\n> young children knock\n> on her door to watch\n> elephants parade in the street.\n> Tents are raised.\n> A knife thrower invites her for his act.\n> The wind of flying knives pulses\n> dreams of moving on with the circus\n> until there is no question. She will go.\n> She pulls together a bag\n> says goodbye to the old woman\n> to the baker, to the children,\n> moves to the next town\n> beneath the throw of the knife.<\/code><\/pre>\n(Weaver, Julene Tripp. \u201cLearning to Travel.\u201d The Literary Bohemian, Issue 03, February 2009, https:\/\/literarybohemian.com\/poetry\/learning-to-travel\/<\/a>.)<\/em><\/p>\nCe po\u00e8me de voyage illustre une forme de voyage qui va au-del\u00e0 du simple tourisme pour devenir une vie authentique au sein d’une communaut\u00e9. La voyageuse apprend la langue, \u00e9tablit des relations (avec le boulanger, la vieille femme, les enfants) et s’int\u00e8gre aux rythmes locaux. L’apparition soudaine du cirque et l’invitation du lanceur de couteaux introduisent un \u00e9l\u00e9ment d’opportunit\u00e9 inattendue et de risque, symbolisant comment un long voyage peut ouvrir les portes \u00e0 des chemins enti\u00e8rement nouveaux. La d\u00e9cision de quitter la vie confortable et connue pour l’aventure incertaine \u00ab\u00a0sous le lancer du couteau\u00a0\u00bb capture l’esprit d’embrasser la nature impr\u00e9visible d’un voyage continu. Ce po\u00e8me est un hommage au pouvoir transformateur de suivre la s\u00e9rendipit\u00e9 pendant un voyage.<\/p>\n
Majorca par John Cooper Clarke<\/h2>\n
\u00ab\u00a0Majorca\u00a0\u00bb de John Cooper Clarke offre un regard r\u00e9solument peu sentimental, voire cynique, sur l’exp\u00e9rience du voyage organis\u00e9. Ce po\u00e8me de voyage contraste fortement avec les notions id\u00e9alis\u00e9es du voyage, trouvant de l’humour noir dans les vacances de masse.<\/p>\n
> fasten your seatbelts says a voice\n> inside the plane you can't hear no noise\n> engines made by rolls royce\n> take your choice\u2026make mine majorca\n>\n> check out the parachutes\n> can't be found\n> alert those passengers\n> they'll be drowned\n> a friendly mug says \u201csettle down\u201d\n> when i came round i was gagged and bound\u2026\n> for Majorca\n>\n> and the eyes caress\n> the neat hostess\n> her unapproachable flip finesse\n> i found the meaning of the word excess\n> they've got little bags if you wanna make a mess\n> i fancied Cuba but it cost me less\u2026\n> to Majorca\n>\n> (Whose blonde sand fondly kisses the cool fathoms of the blue mediteranean)\n>\n> they packed us into the white hotel\n> you could still smell the polycell\n> wet white paint in the air-conditioned cell\n> the waiter smelled of fake Chanel\n> Gaulois\u2026 Garlic as well\n> says if i like\u2026 i can call him \u201cMiguel\u201d\u2026\n> well really\n>\n> i got drunk with another fella\n> who'd just brought up a previous paella\n> he wanted a fight but said they were yella'\u2026\n> in Majorca\n>\n> the guitars rang and the castinets clicked\n> the dancer's stamped and the dancer's kicked\n> it's likely if you sang in the street you'd be nicked\n> the double diamond flowed like sick\n> mother's pride, tortilla and chips\n> pneumatic drills when you try to kip\u2026\n> in Majorca\n>\n> a stomach infection put me in the shade\n> must have been something in the lemonade\n> but by the balls of franco i paid\n> had to pawn my bucket and spade\n> next year I'll take the international brigade\u2026\n> to Majorca<\/code><\/pre>\nCe po\u00e8me de voyage utilise une imagerie vive, souvent d\u00e9sagr\u00e9able, et un ton sardonique pour d\u00e9peindre la r\u00e9alit\u00e9 chaotique, parfois sombre, d’un voyage organis\u00e9 bon march\u00e9. De l’avion potentiellement d\u00e9fectueux \u00e0 l’h\u00f4tel de mauvaise qualit\u00e9 (\u00ab\u00a0cellule climatis\u00e9e\u00a0\u00bb) et \u00e0 la sc\u00e8ne locale peu attrayante (touriste vomissant, bruit fort, infection intestinale), Clarke d\u00e9pouille tout romantisme. La ligne en italique, excessivement po\u00e9tique, sur le sable m\u00e9diterran\u00e9en est une moquerie claire des brochures de voyage typiques. Ce po\u00e8me nous rappelle que tous les voyages ne sont pas une \u00e9vasion idyllique ; certains sont simplement des exp\u00e9riences \u00e0 endurer, trouvant de l’humour dans les absurdit\u00e9s. ![\"Vue](\"https:\/\/latrespace.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/05\/2.webp\")
Vue c\u00f4ti\u00e8re panoramique de Majorque avec eau bleue et falaises, contrastant avec la repr\u00e9sentation cynique du voyage organis\u00e9 dans le po\u00e8me 'Majorca'.<\/em>Vue c\u00f4ti\u00e8re panoramique de Majorque avec eau bleue et falaises, contrastant avec la repr\u00e9sentation cynique d’un voyage organis\u00e9 dans le po\u00e8me ‘Majorca’.<\/p>\nQuestions of Travel par Elizabeth Bishop<\/h2>\n
Le po\u00e8me r\u00e9fl\u00e9chi d’Elizabeth Bishop explore les motivations fondamentales derri\u00e8re l’acte de voyager. Plut\u00f4t que de simplement d\u00e9crire un lieu, il questionne l’acte m\u00eame de quitter la maison pour voir le monde.<\/p>\n
There are too many waterfalls here; the crowded streams\nhurry too rapidly down to the sea,\nand the pressure of so many clouds on the mountaintops\nmakes them spill over the sides in soft slow-motion,\nturning to waterfalls under our very eyes.\n\u2013For if those streaks, those mile-long, shiny, tearstains,\naren\u2019t waterfalls yet,\nin a quick age or so, as ages go here,\nthey probably will be.\nBut if the streams and clouds keep travelling, travelling,\nthe mountains look like the hulls of capsized ships,\nslime-hung and barnacled.\n\nThink of the long trip home.\nShould we have stayed at home and thought of here?\nWhere should we be today?\nIs it right to be watching strangers in a play\nin this strangest of theatres?\nWhat childishness is it that while there's a breath of life\nin our bodies, we are determined to rush\nto see the sun the other way around?\nThe tiniest green hummingbird in the world?\nTo stare at some inexplicable old stonework,\ninexplicable and impenetrable,\nat any view,\ninstantly seen and always, always delightful?\nOh, must we dream our dreams\nand have them, too?\nAnd have we room\nfor one more folded sunset, still quite warm?\n\nBut surely it would have been a pity\nnot to have seen the trees along this road,\nreally exaggerated in their beauty,\nnot to have seen them gesturing\nlike noble pantomimists, robed in pink.\n\u2013Not to have had to stop for gas and heard\nthe sad, two-noted, wooden tune\nof disparate wooden clogs\ncarelessly clacking over\na grease-stained filling-station floor.\n(In another country the clogs would all be tested.\nEach pair there would have identical pitch.)\n\u2013A pity not to have heard\nthe other, less primitive music of the fat brown bird\nwho sings above the broken gasoline pump\nin a bamboo church of Jesuit baroque:\nthree towers, five silver crosses.\n\u2013Yes, a pity not to have pondered,\nblurr\u2019dly and inconclusively,\non what connection can exist for centuries\nbetween the crudest wooden footwear\nand, careful and finicky,\nthe whittled fantasies of wooden footwear\nand, careful and finicky,\nthe whittled fantasies of wooden cages.\n\u2013Never to have studied history in\nthe weak calligraphy of songbirds\u2019 cages.\n\u2013And never to have had to listen to rain\nso much like politicians\u2019 speeches:\ntwo hours of unrelenting oratory\nand then a sudden golden silence\nin which the traveller takes a notebook, writes:\n\n\u201cIs it lack of imagination that makes us come\nto imagined places, not just stay at home?\nOr could Pascal have been not entirely right\nabout just sitting quietly in one\u2019s room?\n\nContinent, city, country, society:\nthe choice is never wide and never free.\nAnd here, or there . . . No. Should we have stayed at home,\nwherever that may be?\u201d<\/code><\/pre>\n(Bishop, Elizabeth. \u201cQuestions of Travel.\u201d All Poetry, https:\/\/allpoetry.com\/Questions-of-Travel<\/a>.)<\/em><\/p>\nCe po\u00e8me de voyage philosophique s’ouvre sur la description d’un paysage submerg\u00e9 par la beaut\u00e9 naturelle, suscitant une remise en question imm\u00e9diate de la pr\u00e9sence du voyageur. Bishop demande si l’impulsion de voyager d\u00e9coule d’un \u00ab\u00a0manque d’imagination\u00a0\u00bb, sugg\u00e9rant que l’on pourrait peut-\u00eatre pleinement exp\u00e9rimenter le monde int\u00e9rieurement sans faire de voyage physique. Pourtant, la deuxi\u00e8me partie du po\u00e8me fournit des d\u00e9tails sensoriels vifs sur des choses rencontr\u00e9es uniquement<\/em> en voyageant – la beaut\u00e9 exag\u00e9r\u00e9e des arbres, le son des sabots de bois, le chant de l’oiseau au-dessus d’une station-service, la connexion historique entre des objets disparates. Ces d\u00e9tails plaident puissamment pour la valeur irrempla\u00e7able de l’exp\u00e9rience directe acquise en faisant un voyage. Le po\u00e8me se termine sans r\u00e9ponse d\u00e9finitive, laissant le lecteur m\u00e9diter sur ses propres motivations pour explorer le monde.<\/p>\nFor the Traveler par John O\u2019Donohue<\/h2>\n
John O’Donohue, po\u00e8te et philosophe irlandais, offre une perspective spirituelle sur l’acte de voyager dans \u00ab\u00a0For the Traveler\u00a0\u00bb. Ce po\u00e8me pr\u00e9sente le voyage comme une opportunit\u00e9 de profonde d\u00e9couverte int\u00e9rieure et de transformation.<\/p>\n
> Every time you leave home,\n> Another road takes you\n> Into a world you were never in.\n>\n> New strangers on other paths await.\n> New places that have never seen you\n> Will startle a little at your entry.\n> Old places that know you well\n> Will pretend nothing\n> Changed since your last visit.\n>\n> When you travel, you find yourself\n> Alone in a different way,\n> More attentive now\n> To the self you bring along,\n> Your more subtle eye watching\n> You abroad; and how what meets you\n> Touches that part of the heart\n> That lies low at home:\n>\n> How you unexpectedly attune\n> To the timbre in some voice,\n> Opening in conversation\n> You want to take in\n> To where your longing\n> Has pressed hard enough\n> Inward, on some unsaid dark,\n> To create a crystal of insight\n> You could not have known\n> You needed\n> To illuminate\n> Your way.\n>\n> When you travel,\n> A new silence\n> Goes with you,\n> And if you listen,\n> You will hear\n> What your heart would\n> Love to say.\n>\n> A journey can become a sacred thing:\n> Make sure, before you go,\n> To take the time\n> To bless your going forth,\n> To free your heart of ballast\n> So that the compass of your soul\n> Might direct you toward\n> The territories of spirit\n> Where you will discover\n> More of your hidden life,\n> And the urgencies\n> That deserve to claim you.\n>\n> May you travel in an awakened way,\n> Gathered wisely into your inner ground;\n> That you may not waste the invitations\n> Which wait along the way to transform you.\n>\n> May you travel safely, arrive refreshed,\n> And live your time away to its fullest;\n> Return home more enriched, and free\n> To balance the gift of days which call you.<\/code><\/pre>\n(O\u2019Donohue, John. \u201cFor the Traveler.\u201d Awakin.org, https:\/\/www.awakin.org\/v2\/read\/view.php?tid=2191<\/a>.)<\/em><\/p>\nCe po\u00e8me de voyage met l’accent sur la dimension int\u00e9rieure de l’acte de voyager. O’Donohue sugg\u00e8re que le voyage cr\u00e9e une solitude et une attention uniques, permettant au voyageur de se connecter \u00e0 sa \u00ab\u00a0vie cach\u00e9e\u00a0\u00bb et \u00e0 ses \u00ab\u00a0territoires de l’esprit\u00a0\u00bb. Les rencontres et les observations faites \u00e0 l’\u00e9tranger (\u00ab\u00a0ce qui vous rencontre\u00a0\u00bb) touchent des parties du c\u0153ur \u00ab\u00a0qui restent cach\u00e9es \u00e0 la maison\u00a0\u00bb, favorisant des insights inattendus. Le po\u00e8me \u00e9l\u00e8ve l’acte physique de voyager \u00e0 une pratique sacr\u00e9e, exhortant le voyageur \u00e0 \u00eatre conscient et ouvert aux possibilit\u00e9s de transformation qui l’attendent sur la route. Il parle de la croissance personnelle profonde qui peut r\u00e9sulter d’un voyage. ![\"Portrait](\"https:\/\/latrespace.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/05\/john-odonohue-700x394.webp\")
Portrait de John O'Donohue, \u00e9rudit, philosophe et po\u00e8te irlandais, dont l'\u0153uvre 'For the Traveler' consid\u00e8re le voyage comme un chemin sacr\u00e9 de d\u00e9couverte de soi.<\/em>Portrait de John O’Donohue, \u00e9rudit, philosophe et po\u00e8te irlandais, dont l’\u0153uvre ‘For the Traveler’ consid\u00e8re le voyage comme un chemin sacr\u00e9 de d\u00e9couverte de soi.<\/p>\nThe Lady in 38C par Lori Jakiela<\/h2>\n
Lori Jakiela, s’inspirant de son exp\u00e9rience d’ancienne h\u00f4tesse de l’air, trouve une joie et une perspective inattendues dans l’environnement confin\u00e9 d’une cabine d’avion. Ce po\u00e8me de voyage met en \u00e9vidence comment m\u00eame les voyages courts et routiniers peuvent offrir des moments de connexion humaine et d’introspection.<\/p>\n
> The Lady in 38 C\n> gets confused. She thinks I'm her nurse.\n> \u201cNurse!\u201d she yells. \u201cMy finger!\u201d\n> So I bring her a band-aid\n> and put it on even though she's fine.\n> \u201cOh thank you nurse!\u201d she yells.\n> \u201cYou're a good one.\u201d\n> She winks and smiles and the woman next to her\n> glares into her computer.\n> I think the old lady's charming.\n> She's 86, still pretty. Her eyes are blue.\n> Her hair is a cloud.\n> She looks exactly like what's outside.\n> She's the only air in this cabin, the only light.\n> \u201cNurse!\u201d she yells, and I look back\n> over the sad heads, eggs in a carton,\n> faces pressed against\n> the mite-ridden blankets\n> and pillows they fought for,\n> and there she is, beaming.\n> \u201cNurse,\u201d she says. \u201cWhere are we?\u201d\n> I take her hand\n> and look out the window.\n> I scratch my head, smile\n> and say, \u201cSomewhere\n> over Idunno.\u201d\n> She's the only passenger\n> who's ever gotten that joke.\n> Up here, nearly everyone is miserable.\n> I count on small joys to get by.\n> The woman in 38C says, \u201cOh, Nurse!\u201d\n> and the woman next to her\n> who probably thinks we're somewhere\n> over Idaho, that wonderland of Hemingway\n> and golden potatoes,\n> rolls her eyes and bangs the computer keys\n> until the seatbelt sign goes on\n> and the captain says,\n> \u201cWe'll be experiencing weather.\u201d\n> which is what people say\n> instead of scary things like storm and turbulence\n> and pretty soon the plane is bouncing\n> and the woman with the computer\n> grips her armrest\n> while the old lady throws her arms up\n> like she's on a roller coaster and yells,\n> \u201cThey should charge extra for this!\u201d<\/code><\/pre>\n(Jakiela, Lori. The Lady in 38C. Source non explicitement cit\u00e9e dans l’extrait original.)<\/em><\/p>\nCe po\u00e8me de voyage, se d\u00e9roulant lors d’un vol turbulent, trouve de l’humour et de la chaleur dans l’interaction humaine au sein de l’espace confin\u00e9 du voyage. Le contraste entre la passag\u00e8re \u00e2g\u00e9e joyeuse et d\u00e9sorient\u00e9e et la femme stress\u00e9e et concentr\u00e9e \u00e0 c\u00f4t\u00e9 d’elle met en \u00e9vidence diff\u00e9rentes fa\u00e7ons dont les gens vivent le m\u00eame voyage. La narratrice h\u00f4tesse de l’air, lasse de la mis\u00e8re habituelle du voyage a\u00e9rien (\u00ab\u00a0t\u00eates tristes, \u0153ufs dans une bo\u00eete\u00a0\u00bb), trouve consolation et humour dans la r\u00e9action d\u00e9brid\u00e9e de la vieille femme face \u00e0 la turbulence, la consid\u00e9rant comme une course palpitante plut\u00f4t qu’une frayeur. C’est un po\u00e8me de voyage petit et intime qui nous rappelle que des moments m\u00e9morables et des connexions humaines peuvent se produire n’importe o\u00f9, m\u00eame \u00e0 des milliers de pieds dans les airs lors d’un voyage apparemment ordinaire. Les moments inattendus et les histoires loufoques peuvent apporter de la l\u00e9g\u00e8ret\u00e9 pendant un voyage, tout comme les histoires dr\u00f4les de No\u00ebl pour adultes<\/a> peuvent apporter de la joie pendant une saison sp\u00e9cifique.<\/p>\nThe World Won\u2019t Miss You for a While par Kathryn Simmonds<\/h2>\n
Le po\u00e8me de Kathryn Simmonds offre un argument convaincant pour s’\u00e9loigner des exigences incessantes de la vie quotidienne, sugg\u00e9rant que prendre une pause ou faire un voyage n’est pas un acte de d\u00e9robade, mais une pause n\u00e9cessaire pour la revitalisation.<\/p>\n
> Lie down with me you hillwalkers and rest,\n> untie your boots and separate your toes,\n> ignore the compass wavering north\/north west.\n>\n> Quit trailing through the overcrowded streets\n> with tinkling bells, you child of Hare Krishna.\n> Hush. Unfurl your saffron robes. How sweet\n>\n> the grass. And you, photographer of wars,\n> lie down and cap your lens. Ambassador,\n> take off your dancing shoes. There are no laws\n>\n> by which you must abide oh blushing boy\n> with Stanley knife, no county magistrates\n> are waiting here to dress you down: employ\n>\n> yourself with cutting up these wild flowers\n> as you like. Sous chef with baby guinea fowl\n> to stuff, surveillance officer with hours\n>\n> to fill, and anorexic weighing up a meal,\n> lie down. Girl riding to an interview,\n> turn back before they force you to reveal\n>\n> your hidey holes. Apprentice pharmacist,\n> leave carousels of second generation\n> happy pills. The long term sad. And journalist\n>\n> with dreams, forget the man from Lancashire\n> who lost his tongue, the youth who found it,\n> kept it quivering in a matchbox for a year.<\/code><\/pre>\n(Simmonds, Kathryn. \u201cThe World Won\u2019t Miss You for a While.\u201d The Guardian, https:\/\/www.theguardian.com\/books\/2008\/aug\/28\/guardianfirstbookaward.awardsandprizes9<\/a>.)<\/em><\/p>\nCe po\u00e8me de voyage, bien qu’il ne traite pas explicitement d’un voyage physique<\/em>, d\u00e9fend l’esprit de s’\u00e9loigner – de prendre une pause du voyage habituel de sa vie exigeante. Il s’adresse \u00e0 un groupe diversifi\u00e9 de personnes, du randonneur et de l’adepte d’Hare Krishna au photographe de guerre et au sous-chef, les exhortant tous \u00e0 faire une pause. Le message principal est que prendre du recul, m\u00eame bri\u00e8vement, permet le repos, l’introspection et une r\u00e9calibration qui est finalement b\u00e9n\u00e9fique. C’est un appel \u00e0 se donner la permission de se d\u00e9sengager du rythme effr\u00e9n\u00e9, sugg\u00e9rant que le monde se d\u00e9brouillera sans vous pendant un certain temps, impliquant que faire un \u00ab\u00a0voyage\u00a0\u00bb personnel loin des responsabilit\u00e9s est un acte pr\u00e9cieux d’auto-pr\u00e9servation.<\/p>\n3 Poems About Travel par Sheenagh Pugh<\/h2>\n
Sheenagh Pugh explore diff\u00e9rentes facettes de l’exp\u00e9rience du voyage, de l’attrait du voyage inattendu \u00e0 l’importance d’\u00eatre v\u00e9ritablement pr\u00e9sent pendant un voyage.<\/p>\n
What If This Road<\/h3>\n> What if this road, that has held no surprises\n> these many years, decided not to go\n> home after all; what if it could turn\n> left or right with no more ado\n> than a kite-tail? What if its tarry skin\n> were like a long, supple bolt of cloth,\n> that is shaken and rolled out, and takes\n> a new shape from the contours beneath?\n> And if it chose to lay itself down\n> in a new way; around a blind corner,\n> across hills you must climb without knowing\n> what's on the other side; who would not hanker\n> to be going, at all risks? Who wants to know\n> a story's end, or where a road will go?<\/code><\/pre>\nCe po\u00e8me joue avec la m\u00e9taphore d’une route famili\u00e8re qui prend soudainement conscience et choisit un nouveau chemin. Il parle du d\u00e9sir humain inn\u00e9 de nouveaut\u00e9 et de l’inconnu, sugg\u00e9rant que la partie la plus excitante d’un voyage est son impr\u00e9visibilit\u00e9. L’image de la route comme un tissu souple souligne l’id\u00e9e de tracer de nouveaux chemins et d’embrasser la d\u00e9viation de la routine. Il capture le \u00ab\u00a0d\u00e9sir ardent\u00a0\u00bb d’exploration et le choix d\u00e9lib\u00e9r\u00e9 de s’engager sur une route o\u00f9 la destination est incertaine, incarnant l’esprit d’entreprendre un v\u00e9ritable voyage d’aventure.<\/p>\n
The Opportune Moment<\/h3>\n> If you were waiting for the opportune moment, that was it\u201d \u2013*Capt Jack Sparrow, Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl*\n>\n> When you go ashore in that town,\n> take neither a camera nor a notebook.\n> However many photographs you upload\n> of that street, the smell of almond paste\n> will be missing; the harbour will not sound\n> of wind slapping on chains. You will read\n> notes like \u201cSami church\u201d, later, and know\n> you saw nothing, never put it where\n> you could find it again, were never\n> really there. When you go ashore\n> in the small port with the rusty trawlers,\n> there will be fur hawkers who all look\n> like Genghis Khan on a market stall,\n> crumbling pavements, roses frozen in bud,\n> an altar with wool hangings, vessels\n> like canal ware, a Madonna\n> with a Russian doll face. When you go\n> ashore, take nothing but the knowledge\n> that where you are, you never will be again<\/code><\/pre>\nCe po\u00e8me de voyage utilise une citation de film comme \u00e9pigraphe pour souligner l’importance de saisir l’instant. C’est un po\u00e8me de mise en garde sur l’exp\u00e9rience d’un voyage \u00e0 travers des dispositifs de m\u00e9diation plut\u00f4t que directement par les sens. Pugh soutient que les photos et les notes, bien que des enregistrements, ne parviennent pas \u00e0 capturer la r\u00e9alit\u00e9 compl\u00e8te et multi-sensorielle d’un lieu – les odeurs, les sons et les d\u00e9tails subtils. En exhortant le voyageur \u00e0 arriver les mains vides, le po\u00e8me plaide pour une pr\u00e9sence totale pendant le voyage, sugg\u00e9rant que le plus pr\u00e9cieux des acquis est le souvenir ind\u00e9l\u00e9bile et personnel form\u00e9 en habitant pleinement le moment et en connaissant sa nature transitoire.<\/p>\n
Do You Think We\u2019ll Ever Get to See Earth, Sir?<\/h3>\n> I hear they're hoping to run trips\n> one day, for the young and fit, of course.\n> I don't see much use in it myself;\n> there'll be any number of places\n> you can't land, because they're still toxic,\n> and even in the relatively safe bits\n> you won't see what it was; what it could be.\n> I can't fancy a tour through the ruins\n> of my home with a party of twenty-five\n> and a guide to tell me what to see.\n> But if you should see some beautiful thing,\n> some leaf, say, damascened with frost,\n> some iridescence on a pigeon's neck,\n> some stone, some curve, some clear water;\n> look at it as if you were made of eyes,\n> as if you were nothing but an eye, lidless\n> and tender, to be probed and scorched\n> by extreme light. Look at it with your skin,\n> with the small hairs on the back of your neck.\n> If it is well-shaped, look at it with your hands;\n> if it has fragrance, breathe it into yourself;\n> if it tastes sweet, put your tongue to it.\n> Look at it as a happening, a moment;\n> let nothing of it go unrecorded,\n> map it as if it were already passing.\n> Look at it with the inside of your head,\n> look at it for later, look at it for ever,\n> and look at it once for me.<\/code><\/pre>\nCe po\u00e8me pr\u00e9sente un futur sp\u00e9culatif o\u00f9 la Terre est un lieu endommag\u00e9, potentiellement visit\u00e9 uniquement par des touristes \u00ab\u00a0jeunes et en forme\u00a0\u00bb faisant un difficile retour vers leur foyer ancestral. Cette vision dystopique sert de toile de fond poignante \u00e0 la deuxi\u00e8me partie du po\u00e8me, qui offre des instructions intenses sur comment<\/em> v\u00e9ritablement voir et exp\u00e9rimenter le monde maintenant<\/em>. En imaginant un futur o\u00f9 l’exp\u00e9rience de la Terre est un privil\u00e8ge rare, le po\u00e8me souligne l’urgence de s’engager avec notre environnement \u00e0 travers tous les sens pendant tout voyage ou moment. C’est un appel puissant \u00e0 l’observation attentive et \u00e0 l’immersion sensorielle, faisant de chaque rencontre, m\u00eame apparemment petite, une exp\u00e9rience profonde digne d’un engagement profond, tout comme trouver de la profondeur dans les po\u00e8mes significatifs sur la vie<\/a> ou r\u00e9fl\u00e9chir \u00e0 l’histoire comme dans les po\u00e8mes pour le Memorial Day<\/a>.<\/p>\nSong of the Open Road par Walt Whitman<\/h2>\n
L’\u00e9pop\u00e9e \u00ab\u00a0Song of the Open Road\u00a0\u00bb de Walt Whitman est peut-\u00eatre l’un des po\u00e8mes de voyage am\u00e9ricains les plus embl\u00e9matiques. Il c\u00e9l\u00e8bre la libert\u00e9, l’autonomie et l’esprit d\u00e9mocratique du voyage lui-m\u00eame, consid\u00e9rant la route comme une m\u00e9taphore de la vie et de la connexion.<\/p>\n
Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,\nHealthy, free, the world before me,\nThe long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.\n\nHenceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,\nHenceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,\nDone with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,\nStrong and content I travel the open road.\n\nThe earth, that is sufficient,\nI do not want the constellations any nearer,\nI know they are very well where they are,\nI know they suffice for those who belong to them.\n\n(Still here I carry my old delicious burdens,\nI carry them, men and women, I carry them with me wherever I go,\nI swear it is impossible for me to get rid of them,\nI am fill'd with them, and I will fill them in return.)\n\n2\nYou road I enter upon and look around, I believe you are not all\nthat is here,\nI believe that much unseen is also here.\n\nHere the profound lesson of reception, nor preference nor denial,\nThe black with his woolly head, the felon, the diseas'd, the\nilliterate person, are not denied;\nThe birth, the hasting after the physician, the beggar's tramp, the\ndrunkard's stagger, the laughing party of mechanics,\nThe escaped youth, the rich person's carriage, the fop, the eloping couple,\nThe early market-man, the hearse, the moving of furniture into the\ntown, the return back from the town,\nThey pass, I also pass, any thing passes, none can be interdicted,\nNone but are accepted, none but shall be dear to me.\n\n3\nYou air that serves me with breath to speak!\nYou objects that call from diffusion my meanings and give them shape!\nYou light that wraps me and all things in delicate equable showers!\nYou paths worn in the irregular hollows by the roadsides!\nI believe you are latent with unseen existences, you are so dear to me.\n\nYou flagg'd walks of the cities! you strong curbs at the edges!\nYou ferries! you planks and posts of wharves! you timber-lined\nside! you distant ships!\nYou rows of houses! you window-pierc'd facades! you roofs!\nYou porches and entrances! you copings and iron guards!\nYou windows whose transparent shells might expose so much!\nYou doors and ascending steps! you arches!\nYou gray stones of interminable pavements! you trodden crossings!\nFrom all that has touch'd you I believe you have imparted to\nyourselves, and now would impart the same secretly to me,\nFrom the living and the dead you have peopled your impassive surfaces,\nand the spirits thereof would be evident and amicable with me.\n\n4\nThe earth expanding right hand and left hand,\nThe picture alive, every part in its best light,\nThe music falling in where it is wanted, and stopping where it is\nnot wanted,\nThe cheerful voice of the public road, the gay fresh sentiment of the road.\n\nO highway I travel, do you say to me Do not leave me?\nDo you say Venture not\u2013if you leave me you are lost?\nDo you say I am already prepared, I am well-beaten and undenied,\nadhere to me?\n\nO public road, I say back I am not afraid to leave you, yet I love you,\nYou express me better than I can express myself,\nYou shall be more to me than my poem.\n\nI think heroic deeds were all conceiv'd in the open air, and all\nfree poems also,\nI think I could stop here myself and do miracles,\nI think whatever I shall meet on the road I shall like, and whoever\nbeholds me shall like me,\nI think whoever I see must be happy.\n\n5\nFrom this hour I ordain myself loos'd of limits and imaginary lines,\nGoing where I list, my own master total and absolute,\nListening to others, considering well what they say,\nPausing, searching, receiving, contemplating,\nGently, but with undeniable will, divesting myself of the holds that\nwould hold me.\n\nI inhale great draughts of space,\nThe east and the west are mine, and the north and the south are mine.\n\nI am larger, better than I thought,\nI did not know I held so much goodness.\n\nAll seems beautiful to me,\ncan repeat over to men and women You have done such good to me\nI would do the same to you,\nI will recruit for myself and you as I go,\nI will scatter myself among men and women as I go,\nI will toss a new gladness and roughness among them,\nWhoever denies me it shall not trouble me,\nWhoever accepts me he or she shall be blessed and shall bless me.\n\n6\nNow if a thousand perfect men were to appear it would not amaze me,\nNow if a thousand beautiful forms of women appear'd it would not\nastonish me.\n\nNow I see the secret of the making of the best persons,\nIt is to grow in the open air and to eat and sleep with the earth.\n\nHere a great personal deed has room,\n(Such a deed seizes upon the hearts of the whole race of men,\nIts effusion of strength and will overwhelms law and mocks all\nauthority and all argument against it.)\n\nHere is the test of wisdom,\nWisdom is not finally tested in schools,\nWisdom cannot be pass'd from one having it to another not having it,\nWisdom is of the soul, is not susceptible of proof, is its own proof,\nApplies to all stages and objects and qualities and is content,\nIs the certainty of the reality and immortality of things, and the\nexcellence of things;\nSomething there is in the float of the sight of things that provokes\nit out of the soul.\n\nNow I re-examine philosophies and religions,\nThey may prove well in lecture-rooms, yet not prove at all under the\nspacious clouds and along the landscape and flowing currents.\n\nHere is realization,\nHere is a man tallied\u2013he realizes here what he has in him,\nThe past, the future, majesty, love\u2013if they are vacant of you, you\nare vacant of them.\n\nOnly the kernel of every object nourishes;\nWhere is he who tears off the husks for you and me?\nWhere is he that undoes stratagems and envelopes for you and me?\n\nHere is adhesiveness, it is not previously fashion'd, it is apropos;\nDo you know what it is as you pass to be loved by strangers?\nDo you know the talk of those turning eye-balls?\n\n7\nHere is the efflux of the soul,\nThe efflux of the soul comes from within through embower'd gates,\never provoking questions,\nThese yearnings why are they? these thoughts in the darkness why are they?\nWhy are there men and women that while they are nigh me the sunlight\nexpands my blood?\nWhy when they leave me do my pennants of joy sink flat and lank?\nWhy are there trees I never walk under but large and melodious\nthoughts descend upon me?\n(I think they hang there winter and summer on those trees and always\ndrop fruit as I pass;)\nWhat is it I interchange so suddenly with strangers?\nWhat with some driver as I ride on the seat by his side?\nWhat with some fisherman drawing his seine by the shore as I walk by\nand pause?\nWhat gives me to be free to a woman's and man's good-will? what\ngives them to be free to mine?\n\n8\nThe efflux of the soul is happiness, here is happiness,\nI think it pervades the open air, waiting at all times,\nNow it flows unto us, we are rightly charged.\n\nHere rises the fluid and attaching character,\nThe fluid and attaching character is the freshness and sweetness of\nman and woman,\n(The herbs of the morning sprout no fresher and sweeter every day\nout of the roots of themselves, than it sprouts fresh and sweet\ncontinually out of itself.)\n\nToward the fluid and attaching character exudes the sweat of the\nlove of young and old,\nFrom it falls distill'd the charm that mocks beauty and attainments,\nToward it heaves the shuddering longing ache of contact.\n\n9\nAllons! whoever you are come travel with me!\nTraveling with me you find what never tires.\n\nThe earth never tires,\nThe earth is rude, silent, incomprehensible at first, Nature is rude\nand incomprehensible at first,\nBe not discouraged, keep on, there are divine things well envelop'd,\nI swear to you there are divine things more beautiful than words can tell.\n\nAllons! we must not stop here,\nHowever sweet these laid-up stores, however convenient this dwelling\nwe cannot remain here,\nHowever shelter'd this port and however calm these waters we must\nnot anchor here,\nHowever welcome the hospitality that surrounds us we are permitted\nto receive it but a little while.\n\n10\nAllons! the inducements shall be greater,\nWe will sail pathless and wild seas,\nWe will go where winds blow, waves dash, and the Yankee clipper\nspeeds by under full sail.\n\nAllons! with power, liberty, the earth, the elements,\nHealth, defiance, gayety, self-esteem, curiosity;\nAllons! from all formules!\nFrom your formules, O bat-eyed and materialistic priests.\n\nThe stale cadaver blocks up the passage\u2013the burial waits no longer.\n\nAllons! yet take warning!\nHe traveling with me needs the best blood, thews, endurance,\nNone may come to the trial till he or she bring courage and health,\nCome not here if you have already spent the best of yourself,\nOnly those may come who come in sweet and determin'd bodies,\nNo diseas'd person, no rum-drinker or venereal taint is permitted here.\n\n(I and mine do not convince by arguments, similes, rhymes,\nWe convince by our presence.)\n\n11\nListen! I will be honest with you,\nI do not offer the old smooth prizes, but offer rough new prizes,\nThese are the days that must happen to you:\nYou shall not heap up what is call'd riches,\nYou shall scatter with lavish hand all that you earn or achieve,\nYou but arrive at the city to which you were destin'd, you hardly\nsettle yourself to satisfaction before you are call'd by an\nirresistible call to depart,\nYou shall be treated to the ironical smiles and mockings of those\nwho remain behind you,\nWhat beckonings of love you receive you shall only answer with\npassionate kisses of parting,\nYou shall not allow the hold of those who spread their reach'd hands\ntoward you.\n\n12\nAllons! after the great Companions, and to belong to them!\nThey too are on the road\u2013they are the swift and majestic men\u2013they\nare the greatest women,\nEnjoyers of calms of seas and storms of seas,\nSailors of many a ship, walkers of many a mile of land,\nHabitues of many distant countries, habitues of far-distant dwellings,\nTrusters of men and women, observers of cities, solitary toilers,\nPausers and contemplators of tufts, blossoms, shells of the shore,\nDancers at wedding-dances, kissers of brides, tender helpers of\nchildren, bearers of children,\nSoldiers of revolts, standers by gaping graves, lowerers-down of coffins,\nJourneyers over consecutive seasons, over the years, the curious\nyears each emerging from that which preceded it,\nJourneyers as with companions, namely their own diverse phases,\nForth-steppers from the latent unrealized baby-days,\nJourneyers gayly with their own youth, journeyers with their bearded\nand well-grain'd manhood,\nJourneyers with their womanhood, ample, unsurpass'd, content,\nJourneyers with their own sublime old age of manhood or womanhood,\nOld age, calm, expanded, broad with the haughty breadth of the universe,\nOld age, flowing free with the delicious near-by freedom of death.\n\n13\nAllons! to that which is endless as it was beginningless,\nTo undergo much, tramps of days, rests of nights,\nTo merge all in the travel they tend to, and the days and nights\nthey tend to,\nAgain to merge them in the start of superior journeys,\nTo see nothing anywhere but what you may reach it and pass it,\nTo conceive no time, however distant, but what you may reach it and pass it,\nTo look up or down no road but it stretches and waits for you,\nhowever long but it stretches and waits for you,\nTo see no being, not God's or any, but you also go thither,\nTo see no possession but you may possess it, enjoying all without\nlabor or purchase, abstracting the feast yet not abstracting one\nparticle of it,\nTo take the best of the farmer's farm and the rich man's elegant\nvilla, and the chaste blessings of the well-married couple, and\nthe fruits of orchards and flowers of gardens,\nTo take to your use out of the compact cities as you pass through,\nTo carry buildings and streets with you afterward wherever you go,\nTo gather the minds of men out of their brains as you encounter\nthem, to gather the love out of their hearts,\nTo take your lovers on the road with you, for all that you leave\nthem behind you,\nTo know the universe itself as a road, as many roads, as roads for\ntraveling souls.\n\nAll parts away for the progress of souls,\nAll religion, all solid things, arts, governments\u2013all that was or is\napparent upon this globe or any globe, falls into niches and corners\nbefore the procession of souls along the grand roads of the universe.\n\nOf the progress of the souls of men and women along the grand roads of the\nuniverse, all other progress is the needed emblem and sustenance.\n\nForever alive, forever forward,\nStately, solemn, sad, withdrawn, baffled, mad, turbulent, feeble,\ndissatisfied,\nDesperate, proud, fond, sick, accepted by men, rejected by men,\nThey go! they go! I know that they go, but I know not where they go,\nBut I know that they go toward the best\u2013toward something great.\n\nWhoever you are, come forth! or man or woman come forth!\nYou must not stay sleeping and dallying there in the house, though\nyou built it, or though it has been built for you.\n\nOut of the dark confinement! out from behind the screen!\nIt is useless to protest, I know all and expose it.\n\nBehold through you as bad as the rest,\nThrough the laughter, dancing, dining, supping, of people,\nInside of dresses and ornaments, inside of those wash'd and trimm'd faces,\nBehold a secret silent loathing and despair.\n\nNo husband, no wife, no friend, trusted to hear the confession,\nAnother self, a duplicate of every one, skulking and hiding it goes,\nFormless and wordless through the streets of the cities, polite and\nbland in the parlors,\nIn the cars of railroads, in steamboats, in the public assembly,\nHome to the houses of men and women, at the table, in the bedroom,\neverywhere,\nSmartly attired, countenance smiling, form upright, death under the\nbreast-bones, hell under the skull-bones,\nUnder the broadcloth and gloves, under the ribbons and artificial flowers,\nKeeping fair with the customs, speaking not a syllable of itself,\nSpeaking of any thing else but never of itself.\n\n14\nAllons! through struggles and wars!\nThe goal that was named cannot be countermanded.\n\nHave the past struggles succeeded?\nWhat has succeeded? yourself? your nation? Nature?\nNow understand me well\u2013it is provided in the essence of things that\nfrom any fruition of success, no matter what, shall come forth\nsomething to make a greater struggle necessary.\n\nMy call is the call of battle, I nourish active rebellion,\nHe going with me must go well arm'd,\nHe going with me goes often with spare diet, poverty, angry enemies,\ndesertions.\n\n15\nAllons! the road is before us!\nIt is safe\u2013I have tried it\u2013my own feet have tried it well\u2013be not\ndetain'd!\nLet the paper remain on the desk unwritten, and the book on the\nshelf unopen'd!\nLet the tools remain in the workshop! let the money remain unearn'd!\nLet the school stand! mind not the cry of the teacher!\nLet the preacher preach in his pulpit! let the lawyer plead in the\ncourt, and the judge expound the law.\n\nCamerado, I give you my hand!\nI give you my love more precious than money,\nI give you myself before preaching or law;\nWill you give me yourselp. will you come travel with me?\nShall we stick by each other as long as we live?<\/code><\/pre>\n(Whitman, Walt. \u201cSong of the Open Road.\u201d Poetry Foundation, https:\/\/www.poetryfoundation.org\/poems\/45162\/song-of-the-open-road<\/a>)<\/em><\/p>\nLe po\u00e8me de Whitman, vaste et en vers libres, est une c\u00e9l\u00e9bration du mouvement, de la libert\u00e9 et de la connexion, ce qui en fait un po\u00e8me de voyage par excellence. La \u00ab\u00a0route ouverte\u00a0\u00bb est \u00e0 la fois un chemin litt\u00e9ral et une m\u00e9taphore puissante du voyage de la vie. Le locuteur embrasse la route comme une source de v\u00e9rit\u00e9 et de d\u00e9couverte de soi, trouvant la sagesse en dehors des institutions conventionnelles (\u00ab\u00a0Fini les plaintes d’int\u00e9rieur, les biblioth\u00e8ques, les critiques querelleuses\u00a0\u00bb). La vision d\u00e9mocratique du po\u00e8me inclut tous ceux rencontr\u00e9s sur la route (\u00ab\u00a0Aucun ne sera refus\u00e9, tous me seront chers\u00a0\u00bb). Il met l’accent sur la richesse acquise par l’exp\u00e9rience sensorielle et l’interaction avec le monde. L’appel r\u00e9p\u00e9t\u00e9 \u00ab\u00a0Allons !\u00a0\u00bb est une invitation au lecteur \u00e0 se joindre \u00e0 ce voyage de libert\u00e9, d’autonomie et de connexion, consid\u00e9rant l’univers entier comme une s\u00e9rie de \u00ab\u00a0routes pour les \u00e2mes voyageuses\u00a0\u00bb. Il aborde le voyage collectif de l’humanit\u00e9, tout comme les po\u00e8mes \u00e9crits en hommage<\/a> honorent souvent des exp\u00e9riences ou des figures partag\u00e9es. ![\"Portrait](\"https:\/\/latrespace.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/05\/walt-whitman-700x394.webp\")
Portrait historique de Walt Whitman, dont 'Song of the Open Road' est un po\u00e8me de voyage fondamental c\u00e9l\u00e9brant la libert\u00e9 et le chemin de la vie.<\/em>Portrait historique de Walt Whitman, dont ‘Song of the Open Road’ est un po\u00e8me de voyage fondamental c\u00e9l\u00e9brant la libert\u00e9 et le chemin de la vie lui-m\u00eame.<\/p>\nWhy Do I Travel? Auteur inconnu<\/h2>\n
Cette pi\u00e8ce r\u00e9flexive, dont l’auteur n’est pas d\u00e9finitivement connu, exprime avec puissance l’impact personnel profond de l’acte de voyager, en particulier seul. Elle pr\u00e9sente le voyage comme un catalyseur de d\u00e9couverte de soi et d’\u00e9mancipation.<\/p>\n
> It is on the road that my inner voice speaks the loudest and my heart beats the strongest.\n> It is on the road that I take extra pride in my wooly hair, full features and lineage.\n> It is on the road that I develop extra senses and the hairs on my arms stand up and say \u201cSana, don't go there\u201d, and I listen.\n> It's when I safety pin my money to my underclothes and count it a million times before I go to sleep,\n> It is on the road that I am a poet, an ambassador, a dancer, medicine woman, an angel and even a genius.\n> It's on the road that I am fearless and unstoppable and if necessary ball up my fist and fight back.\n> It is on the road that I talk to my deceased parents and they speak back\n> It's on the road that I reprimand myself, and set new goals, refuel, stop and begin again.\n> It is on the road that I experience what freedom truly is.\n> It is my travel that has transformed me making me a citizen of the world. When my humanness, compassion and affection are raised to a new level and I share unconditionally.<\/code><\/pre>\nCe po\u00e8me de voyage est un t\u00e9moignage du voyage comme force transformatrice. La locutrice \u00e9num\u00e8re les nombreuses fa\u00e7ons dont le voyage am\u00e9liore son identit\u00e9, son intuition et son courage. La route n’est pas seulement un chemin physique mais un espace o\u00f9 le moi int\u00e9rieur prend vie et se sent le plus authentique. Le po\u00e8me met en \u00e9vidence les r\u00e9alit\u00e9s pratiques du voyage (\u00ab\u00a0\u00e9pingle de s\u00fbret\u00e9 mon argent\u00a0\u00bb) parall\u00e8lement \u00e0 l’\u00e9tat d’\u00eatre accru qu’il induit – se sentir comme un po\u00e8te, un ambassadeur ou un g\u00e9nie. Il parle de la libert\u00e9 unique et de l’autonomie acquises en naviguant seul dans le monde. La r\u00e9f\u00e9rence \u00e0 parler aux parents d\u00e9c\u00e9d\u00e9s relie le voyage physique \u00e0 un voyage interne, spirituel, sugg\u00e9rant que le voyage offre un espace pour une r\u00e9flexion personnelle profonde et la gu\u00e9rison, des th\u00e8mes parfois explor\u00e9s dans les beaux po\u00e8mes sur la mort d’un \u00eatre cher<\/a>.<\/p>\nThe Return par Geneen Marie Haugen<\/h2>\n
Le po\u00e8me de Geneen Marie Haugen explore l’exp\u00e9rience souvent inexprim\u00e9e du retour \u00e0 la maison apr\u00e8s un voyage important. Il met en \u00e9vidence les fa\u00e7ons subtiles mais profondes dont le voyage peut changer une personne, la faisant se sentir \u00e0 la fois enrichie et peut-\u00eatre \u00e9trang\u00e8re \u00e0 son retour.<\/p>\n
> Some day, if you are lucky,\n> you'll return from a thunderous journey\n> trailing snake scales, wing fragments\n> and the musk of Earth and moon.\n>\n> Eyes will examine you for signs\n> of damage, or change\n> and you, too, will wonder\n> if your skin shows traces\n>\n> of fur, or leaves,\n> if thrushes have built a nest\n> of your hair, if Andromeda\n> burns from your eyes.\n>\n> Do not be surprised by prickly questions\n> from those who barely inhabit\n> their own fleeting lives, who barely taste\n> their own possibility, who barely dream.\n>\n> If your hands are empty, treasureless,\n> if your toes have not grown claws,\n> if your obedient voice has not\n> become a wild cry, a howl,\n>\n> you will reassure them. We warned you,\n> they might declare, there is nothing else,\n> no point, no meaning, no mystery at all,\n> just this frantic waiting to die.\n>\n> And yet, they tremble, mute,\n> afraid you've returned without sweet\n> elixir for unspeakable thirst, without\n> a fluent dance or holy language\n> to teach them, without a compass\n> bearing to a forgotten border where\n> no one crosses without weeping\n> for the terrible beauty of galaxies\n>\n> and granite and bone. They tremble,\n> hoping your lips hold a secret,\n> that the song your body now sings\n> will redeem them, yet they fear\n>\n> your secret is dangerous, shattering,\n> and once it flies from your astonished\n> mouth, they \u2014 like you \u2014 must disintegrate\n> before unfolding tremulous wings.<\/code><\/pre>\n(Haugen, Geneen Marie. \u201cThe Return.\u201d Awakin.org, https:\/\/www.awakin.org\/v2\/read\/view.php?tid=2191<\/a>.)<\/em><\/p>\nCe po\u00e8me de voyage se concentre sur le pouvoir transformateur du p\u00e9riple et le d\u00e9fi de la r\u00e9int\u00e9gration dans la vie ordinaire. L’imagerie (\u00ab\u00a0trainant des \u00e9cailles de serpent, des fragments d’aile\u00a0\u00bb) sugg\u00e8re qu’une transformation profonde, presque sauvage, s’est produite pendant le voyage. Le voyageur est examin\u00e9 pour des signes de ce changement, \u00e0 la fois par les autres et par lui-m\u00eame. Le po\u00e8me contraste les perspectives limit\u00e9es de ceux qui n’ont pas voyag\u00e9 avec la conscience \u00e9largie du voyageur. Il y a un sentiment que les autres esp\u00e8rent que le voyageur rapporte un \u00ab\u00a0secret\u00a0\u00bb ou un \u00ab\u00a0\u00e9lixir\u00a0\u00bb, quelque chose pour racheter leurs propres vies inachev\u00e9es. Le po\u00e8me sugg\u00e8re que le voyageur revient<\/em> chang\u00e9, chantant une nouvelle \u00ab\u00a0chanson\u00a0\u00bb, et que cette transformation, si elle est partag\u00e9e, peut \u00eatre \u00e0 la fois puissante et d\u00e9stabilisante pour ceux qui sont rest\u00e9s derri\u00e8re. C’est une exploration puissante de l’impact durable de l’acte de faire un voyage significatif. ![\"Une](\"https:\/\/latrespace.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/05\/6.webp\")
Une illustration du po\u00e8me 'The Return', montrant une personne contemplant un paysage, symbolisant la r\u00e9flexion et la transformation possibles apr\u00e8s un voyage marquant.<\/em>Une illustration du po\u00e8me ‘The Return’, montrant une personne contemplant un paysage, symbolisant la r\u00e9flexion et la transformation possibles apr\u00e8s un voyage marquant.<\/p>\nThe Road Not Taken par Robert Frost<\/h2>\n
Peut-\u00eatre le po\u00e8me le plus c\u00e9l\u00e8bre sur les choix, \u00ab\u00a0The Road Not Taken\u00a0\u00bb de Robert Frost est souvent interpr\u00e9t\u00e9 comme une m\u00e9taphore des chemins divergents de la vie, ce qui en fait un po\u00e8me de voyage r\u00e9sonnant sur le chemin de la vie elle-m\u00eame.<\/p>\n
> Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,\n> And sorry I could not travel both\n> And be one traveler, long I stood\n> And looked down one as far as I could\n> To where it bent in the undergrowth;\n>\n> Then took the other, as just as fair,\n> And having perhaps the better claim,\n> Because it was grassy and wanted wear;\n> Though as for that the passing there\n> Had worn them really about the same,\n>\n> And both that morning equally lay\n> In leaves no step had trodden black.\n> Oh, I marked the first for another day!\n> Yet knowing how way leads on to way,\n> I doubted if I should ever come back.\n>\n> I shall be telling this with a sigh\n> Somewhere ages and ages hence:\n> Two roads diverged in a wood, and I\u2014\n> I took the one less traveled by,\n> And that has made all the difference.<\/code><\/pre>\nCe po\u00e8me de voyage utilise l’image simple de routes divergentes dans un bois pour repr\u00e9senter des choix de vie importants. Bien que souvent lu comme une c\u00e9l\u00e9bration de l’individualisme et du choix du chemin le moins fr\u00e9quent\u00e9, la nuance du po\u00e8me r\u00e9side dans les lignes sugg\u00e9rant que les routes \u00e9taient \u00ab\u00a0en fait \u00e0 peu pr\u00e8s les m\u00eames\u00a0\u00bb et \u00ab\u00a0\u00e9gales en cette matin\u00e9e\u00a0\u00bb sans trace de pas. Le \u00ab\u00a0soupir\u00a0\u00bb et l’affirmation de la diff\u00e9rence faite en prenant la route \u00ab\u00a0moins fr\u00e9quent\u00e9e\u00a0\u00bb sont attribu\u00e9s \u00e0 une r\u00e9flexion future, sugg\u00e9rant peut-\u00eatre une narration construite sur le pass\u00e9. Quelle que soit l’interpr\u00e9tation, le po\u00e8me capture l’exp\u00e9rience fondamentale de se tenir \u00e0 la crois\u00e9e des chemins, de faire un choix quant \u00e0 la direction de son voyage, et de r\u00e9fl\u00e9chir \u00e0 la fa\u00e7on dont cette d\u00e9cision a fa\u00e7onn\u00e9 le voyage qui a suivi. ![\"Statue](\"https:\/\/latrespace.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/05\/8-700x395.webp\")
Statue de Robert Frost, auteur du po\u00e8me de voyage embl\u00e9matique 'The Road Not Taken', qui utilise des chemins divergents comme m\u00e9taphore des choix de vie.<\/em>Statue de Robert Frost, auteur du po\u00e8me de voyage embl\u00e9matique ‘The Road Not Taken’, qui utilise des chemins divergents comme m\u00e9taphore des choix de vie.<\/p>\nDie Slowly par Martha Medeiros<\/h2>\n
Le po\u00e8me de Martha Medeiros est un appel puissant \u00e0 vivre pleinement, consid\u00e9rant l’inaction et la stagnation comme une forme de mort lente. Ce po\u00e8me de voyage est moins ax\u00e9 sur le voyage physique et plus sur l’approche de la vie comme<\/em> un voyage rempli de changement, de risque et de nouvelles exp\u00e9riences.<\/p>\n> He who becomes the slave of habit,\n> who follows the same routes every day,\n> who never changes pace,\n> who does not risk and change the color of his clothes,\n> who does not speak and does not experience,\n> dies slowly.\n>\n> He or she who shuns passion,\n> who prefers black on white,\n> dotting ones i's rather than a bundle of emotions, the kind that make your eyes glimmer,\n> that turn a yawn into a smile,\n> that make the heart pound in the face of mistakes and feelings,\n> dies slowly.\n>\n> He or she who does not turn things topsy-turvy,\n> who is unhappy at work,\n> who does not risk certainty for uncertainty,\n> to thus follow a dream,\n> those who do not forego sound advice at least once in their lives,\n> die slowly.\n>\n> He who does not travel, who does not read,\n> who does not listen to music,\n> who does not find grace in himself,\n> she who does not find grace in herself,\n> dies slowly.\n>\n> He who slowly destroys his own self-esteem,\n> who does not allow himself to be helped,\n> who spends days on end complaining about his own bad luck, about the rain that never stops,\n> dies slowly.\n>\n> He or she who abandons a project before starting it, who fails to ask questions on subjects he doesn't know, he or she who doesn't reply when they are asked something they do know,\n> dies slowly.\n>\n> Let's try and avoid death in small doses,\n> reminding oneself that being alive requires an effort far greater than the simple fact of breathing.\n>\n> Only a burning patience will lead\n> to the attainment of a splendid happiness<\/code><\/pre>\nCe po\u00e8me fonctionne comme un po\u00e8me de voyage m\u00e9taphorique, assimilant le manque de changement, de passion et d’exp\u00e9rience \u00e0 un lent d\u00e9clin. Il mentionne directement le voyage comme l’une des choses n\u00e9cessaires pour \u00e9viter ce destin. En \u00e9num\u00e9rant des activit\u00e9s comme changer de routine, prendre des risques, chercher des exp\u00e9riences, lire et \u00e9couter de la musique aux c\u00f4t\u00e9s du voyage, Medeiros positionne l’esprit d’exploration et d’ouverture essentiel \u00e0 l’acte de voyager comme des \u00e9l\u00e9ments essentiels d’une vie pleinement v\u00e9cue. C’est un rappel puissant que l’\u00e9tat d’esprit d’un voyageur – curiosit\u00e9, courage, engagement – peut et doit \u00eatre appliqu\u00e9 au-del\u00e0 des voyages physiques pour revigorer son existence quotidienne et rechercher des po\u00e8mes significatifs sur la vie<\/a> sous toutes leurs formes.<\/p>\nLa s\u00e9lection diversifi\u00e9e de po\u00e8mes de voyage explor\u00e9s ici \u2014 de l’anticipation du d\u00e9part et des d\u00e9fis sur la route \u00e0 la transformation au retour et aux voyages m\u00e9taphoriques de la vie elle-m\u00eame \u2014 d\u00e9montre les fa\u00e7ons riches et vari\u00e9es dont les po\u00e8tes ont captur\u00e9 l’essence de l’exp\u00e9rience du voyage. Ces po\u00e8mes nous invitent \u00e0 r\u00e9fl\u00e9chir \u00e0 nos propres voyages, nous rappelant que, que nous voyagions loin ou restions chez nous, il y a toujours de nouveaux paysages, ext\u00e9rieurs et int\u00e9rieurs, qui attendent d’\u00eatre explor\u00e9s avec curiosit\u00e9 et un c\u0153ur ouvert.<\/p>\n
R\u00e9f\u00e9rences<\/strong><\/p>\n\n- Bishop, Elizabeth. \u201cQuestions of Travel.\u201d All Poetry, https:\/\/allpoetry.com\/Questions-of-Travel<\/a>.<\/li>\n
- Collins, Billy. \u201cConsolation.\u201d Poetry Foundation, Poetry Magazine, July 1991, https:\/\/www.poetryfoundation.org\/poetrymagazine\/issue\/71257\/july-1991<\/a>.<\/li>\n
- Dove, Rita. \u201cVacation.\u201d Poets.org, American Academy of Poets, https:\/\/poets.org\/poem\/vacation<\/a>.<\/li>\n
- Grotz, Jennifer. \u201cSelf-Portrait on the Street of an Unnamed Foreign City.\u201d Poets.org, American Academy of Poets, https:\/\/poets.org\/poem\/self-portrait-street-unnamed-foreign-city<\/a>.<\/li>\n
- Haugen, Geneen Marie. \u201cThe Return.\u201d Awakin.org, https:\/\/www.awakin.org\/v2\/read\/view.php?tid=2191<\/a>.<\/li>\n
- O\u2019Donohue, John. \u201cFor the Traveler.\u201d Awakin.org, https:\/\/www.awakin.org\/v2\/read\/view.php?tid=2191<\/a>.<\/li>\n
- Simmonds, Kathryn. \u201cThe World Won\u2019t Miss You for a While.\u201d The Guardian, https:\/\/www.theguardian.com\/books\/2008\/aug\/28\/guardianfirstbookaward.awardsandprizes9<\/a>.<\/li>\n
- Weaver, Julene Tripp. \u201cLearning to Travel.\u201d The Literary Bohemian, Issue 03, February 2009, https:\/\/literarybohemian.com\/poetry\/learning-to-travel\/<\/a>.<\/li>\n
- Whitman, Walt. \u201cSong of the Open Road.\u201d Poetry Foundation, https:\/\/www.poetryfoundation.org\/poems\/45162\/song-of-the-open-road<\/a>.<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"