This poem was written after I had read Boileau’s “Oeuvres I Satires, le lutrin”. He was born in 1636 & today, belongs to the French classics. The only word that comes to my mind concerning his style is, magnificent. Discovering it at this time in my life gives me the advantage of grasping & appreciating the genius & depth of this master of literature.
This poem is mostly philosophising about the adventure & thrill of journeys in the mode of transportation we use today (which is mostly airplanes) & its origins.
I wrote this poem in French & as its level is higher than usual I preferred to get the help of a professional translator. I found it extremely difficult to keep its original flavour & twist which can sometimes get lost in search of a word or sentence in another language.
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