each moment, each wound, inscribed in each line, each curve, then the colors that speak of the mood of the day, of the passing of time.
chaque moment, chaque blessure, inscrits dans chacune des lignes, dans chaque courbe, puis les couleurs qui parlent de l’humeur du jour, du temps qui passe.
tu les entendais dehors
mais en dedans aussi
et même avec les mains sur les oreilles
pour essayer de dormir
tu les entendais gémir
tu les entendais souffrir
ils allaient mourir
les arbres sans racines
to follow it you had to look differently, one step at a time, one step in front of you, feeling the sun, knowing it was there and asking for nothing more, making an effort, again, to look differently, but everything was fine, everything would be fine, today, then we would do it all over again.
I swear to you ! when I got to this tree, I could feel the air moving slowly, as if it had hips, so that the beauty of the branches would remain undisturbed and could spread out in an honest way, as they had since the beginning of time.