Lorsque je suis parmi les arbres

Mary Oliver

When I am among the trees

When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.

I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.

Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, « Stay awhile. »
The light flows from their branches.

And they call again, « It’s simple, » they say,
« and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine. »

Lorsque je suis parmi les arbres

Lorsque je suis parmi les arbres,
en particulier les saules et les féviers,
mais aussi les hêtres, les chênes et les pins,
ils dégagent tant de joie diffuse.
Je dirais presque qu’ils me sauvent, chaque jour.

Je me suis éloignée de l’espoir de moi-même,
où résident la bonté et le discernement,
et jamais je ne me presse dans le monde
mais je marche lentement et m’incline souvent.

Autour de moi, les arbres agitent leurs feuilles
et m’appellent, « Reste un moment. »
La lumière coule de leurs branches.

Et ils appellent à nouveau, « C’est simple », disent-ils,
« car toi aussi tu es venue
dans le monde pour faire ceci, pour aller doucement, pour être remplie
de lumière, et pour briller. »

Traduction : Nicole Pottier

Pleurs d’automne

Vasile Voiculescu

Plâns de toamnă

Bat lung peste ţară
Reci ramuri de vânt
Şi codrul de ceară
Miroase a sfânt.

Vin zile cărunte…
Spre văile moi
Se lasă mărunte
Dulci neguri de oi.

Cocoare gonace
Pe-un cer pămîntiu
Spre calde conace
Aceleaşi căi scriu

Şi-n poala zăbună
A norilor orbi
Văzduhul adună
Sinoade de corbi.

Dezmierzi o lumină?
Se stinge… De-acum
Ţi-e mâna de tină,
Obrazul de fum.

Continuer la lecture de Pleurs d’automne

Parlez-nous de la Liberté

Khalil Gibran

Freedom

And an orator said, « Speak to us of Freedom. »
And he answered:
At the city gate and by your fireside I have seen you prostrate yourself and worship your own freedom,
Even as slaves humble themselves before a tyrant and praise him though he slays them.
Ay, in the grove of the temple and in the shadow of the citadel I have seen the freest among you wear their freedom as a yoke and a handcuff.
And my heart bled within me; for you can only be free when even the desire of seeking freedom becomes a harness to you, and when you cease to speak of freedom as a goal and a fulfillment.
You shall be free indeed when your days are not without a care nor your nights without a want and a grief,
But rather when these things girdle your life and yet you rise above them naked and unbound.

And how shall you rise beyond your days and nights unless you break the chains which you at the dawn of your understanding have fastened around your noon hour?
In truth that which you call freedom is the strongest of these chains, though its links glitter in the sun and dazzle the eyes.

And what is it but fragments of your own self you would discard that you may become free?
If it is an unjust law you would abolish, that law was written with your own hand upon your own forehead.
You cannot erase it by burning your law books nor by washing the foreheads of your judges, though you pour the sea upon them.
And if it is a despot you would dethrone, see first that his throne erected within you is destroyed.
For how can a tyrant rule the free and the proud, but for a tyranny in their own freedom and a shame in their won pride?
And if it is a care you would cast off, that care has been chosen by you rather than imposed upon you.
And if it is a fear you would dispel, the seat of that fear is in your heart and not in the hand of the feared.
Verily all things move within your being in constant half embrace, the desired and the dreaded, the repugnant and the cherished, the pursued and that which you would escape.
These things move within you as lights and shadows in pairs that cling.
And when the shadow fades and is no more, the light that lingers becomes a shadow to another light.
And thus your freedom when it loses its fetters becomes itself the fetter of a greater freedom.

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Continuer la lecture de Parlez-nous de la Liberté