La  Tribu prophétique aux prunelles ardentes
Hier s’est mise en route, emportant ses petits
Sur son dos, ou livrant à leurs fiers appétits
Le trésor toujours prêt des mamelles pendantes.

Les hommes vont à pied sous leurs armes luisantes
Le long des chariots où les leurs sont blottis,
Promenant sur le ciel des yeux appesantis
Par le morne regret des chimères absentes.

Du fond de son réduit sablonneux, le grillon,
Les regardant passer, redouble sa chanson ;
Cybèle, qui les aime, augmente ses verdures,

Fait couler le rocher et fleurir le désert
Devant ces voyageurs, pour lesquels est ouvert
L’empire familier des ténèbres futures.

Bohémiens en voyage  in LES FLEURS DU MAL – Charles BAUDELAIRE.

The prophetic Tribe with scorching pupils
Yesterday started out, taking away her little children
On her back, or abandonning to their proud appetites
The treasure always ready of the hanging breasts.

Men go walking under their bright weapons
Along the wagons where their little children are snuggled,
Running over the sky, heavy eyes
With gloomy regret of absent chimeras.

From the bottom of his sandy boxroom, the cricket
Watching them passing, redoubling his song ;
Cybele, who loves them, increases her greenery,

Makes melt the rock and flower the desert
In front of these travelers, for whom is open
The familiar  empire of the darkness.

Bohemians in travel  in LES FLEURS DU MAL – Charles BAUDELAIRE.

I was in a supermarket of the suburb of PARIS.
– « Could you buy a dried milk box for my baby ? »
The girl who was speaking to me, didn’t have scorching pupils. Her young and tired eyes were full of sadness. She was wearing poor Gipsy’s clothes. Long skirt, red and gold tex shoes. Tired clothes. Not dirty, not clean.
She was a Tzigane. A young one.

Disturbed in my consumer’s peacefullness, I thought :
« Fuck ! Now even inside not only at the entrance of the supermarkets, poor people are asking for money » .
In the metro, in the streets, there are so many beggars, but till this day, I never saw beggars inside a supermarket. This girl wasn’t at the door of the supermarket, she was inside. I answered to her :
« No ! »
My mouth was only just shuting up on this definitive word but to my mind, the thought quickly came that it was milk for her baby, that girl was asking for
« Milk for baby… »
She was already leaving me. I stopped her and said :
– « Ok, come with me and let’s buy a box of milk».

I’m not proud about SARKOZY president is doing now against Gipsies. Not proud.


~ by nournours on August 22, 2010.

One Response to “GIPSY”

  1. Pendant ce temps certains boivent des millions comme du petit lait en pointant le doigt vers les “avidites” gourmandes des plus demunis.

    Il n est jamais trop tard pour de meilleurs choix plus humains.merci

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: