Une phrase issue d'un blog, du genre de blog qui vous redonne confiance en l'humanité, tout simplement.
Alors, juste en passant, un poème de Eugen Jebeleanu, en traduction anglaise :
Secret Weapon
This thing
so many despise
but everyone wants to make.
This thing
so many people
want to catch
as they dress up in the sirens of cars
which can go 100 miles per hour,
and in pressurized bottles,
and in dresses with patterns or no rhyme or reason,
in dresses no less shiny
than neon on those evenings in summer
when I don’t know who
high above us
is quietly
scything
the crops.
This despised thing
envied by all
because it cannot be seen
but exists,
because it is wolf and bird
and nation of lambs,
high, high, where it rules
the moon
without saying a word.
This thing
so precious
it costs almost nothing,
which reveals itself to only a few,
giving itself to all, wolf, bird, lamb
(without tail! without end!)
belonging to all
(if they can catch it)
which cannot be fashioned
by hands with flint finger bones.
This thing which sings,
which bites if it’s needed, which keeps you warm
wolf
bird
lamb
breath of the Invisible.
(in Eugen Jebeleanu, Secret Weapon : Selected late poems, traduit par Matthew Zapruder et Ralph Ioanid, Coffee House press, 2008)
breath of the Invisible ...
