Pour une France et un monde justes, ouverts et pluriels, voici quelques piètres mots d’anglais.
They have stripped the manger and pulled planks from the walls
And too many of us flee to the butchers’ suet smiles
We have cowered in the sun
This unease is now upon us
The cloud stretches unholy tendrils
We are dimmed; it clutches, thickening
Insidious, they let it grow
We did not have the right words, the right volume, the right pitch
The cloud became so visible
The rain it promises, so visceral
In a cosseted, decadent land
A people staggering split between love to loss
I, child of a comfortable generation
Who have only just learned to crawl
I fill with an ancestral fear
That we must now stand –
For the moat is drained and there are so few shields –
That we must now learn what we never thought to prepare for
The cloud promises its storm, neither figure nor metaphor
And I am afraid that we must now be
Brave