On one of the three large Loyalty Islands
I swim between heaven and earth – :
Between latitudes 20°23’S and 20°45’S
And longitudes 166°10’E and 166°41’S

Iaaï (Ouvéa) prostrate under the wind
From Cape Rossel to Lékine Point
An atoll lined with coral
The string of islands to the west

The beach plays with the lagoon
The cliff sucks our silhouettes
Is there a God on these shores?
I lay down in a cave

My eyelashes are moistened with sand
The coconut trees shade the wall
I hear the boiler room of an oil mill
And the soap factory of Hwaadrila

Far beyond the panting cliffs
Sandalwood and banana scent the air
The seawater desalination plant
Hums at night even in winter

A xumwöng (song) accompanies the wind
The trade wind plays with my hair
A Tusi Kap (Bible) translated into iaai
Rests in the wet sand

Tell me, haawa e gaam (how are you?)
Umwaa he jeem kehöö (when will you come)
To join me in this windy space
E hu thiûôngon? (do you have flowers?)

I will plunge them into the ocean
To swim in multicolored water
Oge me haiöö monu kööbun (I beg your pardon)
I fell in love with your silence

And the caves echo my prayers;
I learn the language of Ouvéa,
It is midnight, my watch is moving forward,
A silver seagull flies over my poem

Ehu anyibun peipë hnâân sisitr? (Do you have paper to write on?)
I don’t know when this dream began
The day was rising beyond the ocean
I began to sing in a language that was unknown to me

Iny betenge gaam (I love you)
Even if you were only the refrain of the wind
That comes to burn my eyelids
That the quivering of the breadfruit,

To the thibi week (I love you alone)
Even if you were only a reflection,
The shadow of the moon on the mango trees,
The smell of sandalwood that haunts my nostrils
The sublime flowers of the flaming tree

Esoo möötr, aaanee hu weeta (life is beautiful when you love)
And in our cities at a standstill, far from our urban tragedies
I want to travel with you through these thirsty verses
To cross the skies to Ouvéa

I’m taking you a little far this time
Breathe in the carbon dioxide one last time
I take you between heaven and earth
Between the latitudes 20°23’S and 20°45S

The Anglo-Saxon adventurers
Yesterday they sailed the South Pacific
And filled the cellar of their boats
With sandalwood, fabrics and glassware

The ghosts of sandalwood traders
Are playing cards with the sun now,
Is it the specter of a missionary
Or a kite over our heads?

Planes have replaced the steamboats
Whiskey burns away from the communion wine
But the brambles of the wild blackberries
Still draw blood from the sky

Lying on a bed of hibiscus
A flock of birds above us,
The cyclone waits hidden in the dark coat of the ocean
The paddles have been pulled up on the beach

There will not be a boat tonight
And the heliconia flower
Whispers a sweet prayer to the lovers
And touches with its petals the heart of an old acacia

A group of drunken young people
Greet the swallow of the Pacific
In its serene and oblique flight,
Accompanied by the jumps of an orca

Pour me a glass of wine near the cycas
I have disobeyed reason and common sense
I wait on the land of Ouvéa
Hidden in a purple ûroos (rosebush)

I wait for you to come and join me
At the bottom of this ocean of sand
Turning on my radio on the beach
Far from the scarlet amaryllis

The cobwebs make up the roof
Of this old Kanak house
The orange trees have been replanted elsewhere
No one will come to haunt us,

Let’s light the ûeealep (the ember pile)
Until the night dresses us
Do you hear the grasshoppers’ struggle to the death
The pathetic song of an ûdralia (dahlia)?

My gaze is udrem (blurred, veiled)
I touched an udret (jellyfish); its magic
Now flows through my veins
The dotted line stared at me

The hours are drying like drops
In this little house by the ocean
I put the laundry to soak
I no longer have the measure of time

And this poetry is the pistil of a flower
That I blow on your feverish forehead
Pour me some white tea
I threw the net of my doubts in the ocean

Iny betenge gaam (I love you)
Even if you were only the refrain of the wind
That comes to burn my eyelids
That the quivering of the breadfruit,

I cut a sugar cane in the mist
In the middle of the sunset,
My scarf is soaked with the perfume of the beach
The kite of history is flying

Dawn welcomes our oiled laughter
A starfish awaits the light
Near the porcelain of the shells
The warbler has caught its paw in a bucket

The grey lizard runs on the white wall
And the priest of Hwaadrila
Has a new gold watch
The crabs have taken the rocks for God

Planes have replaced the steamboats
Whiskey burns away from the communion wine
But the brambles of the wild blackberries
Still draw blood from the sky

The salty foam makes me lose my mind
I wait for you at high tide
Come, moor your boat on this beach,
I will sleep soundly while waiting for you

Between latitudes 20°23’S and 20°45’S
And longitudes 166°10’E and 166°41’S
On one of the three great Loyalty Islands
I wait for you between heaven and earth