Benyamin’s dead

All the poems that I read,
All the written words I said
Are nothing like this one: sad –
Since it says: Benyamin’s dead.

Don’t look for good moments he had,
Don’t try to prove he wasn’t mad;
Say simply, loudly: he was bad –
There’s nothing to add.

Smart words he said?
He’d been a playful lad?
Despite of all he eventually had –
He was just ghastly, terrifically bad.

All the happy moments he caused – had,
He turned them all into sad,
Since he was just bad –
At least he’s dead.

Better not to wed,
Turning else into sad,
Dying alone, that’s for the bad;
Benyamin’s dead, condolences who read.

Benyamin Bensalah


Ol’ Benyo

O’ good people, hither!
Send me down the river,
By a cold breeze that would make me shiver
If my heart were a heart, and my liver a liver.

O’ good life, thither!
I know we’ve been sévère,
But it could have been a hundred times shittier,
We’d say thanks for that we were here.

O’ good Benyo hièr!
You are no more here,
But we sing your songs that shiver,
And live without your heart or your liver.

Benyamin Bensalah