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I can’t stop thinking, That the earth is round, round Like African women, That the seagulls are white, That dogs are crazy, They bark at poets, writers, I can’t stop thinking, That the sun is a guitar Who plays in the summer, in the blue sky, That men do not love the saints, That pear trees are angels, That flowers are generous hosts, I can’t stop thinking, That silence is a low chapel Built by wild Bretons, That silence is a quiet port, a silence That we board the boats, To cross the hurricanes, I can’t stop thinking, That silence alone heals the soul, That it heals the red skins That the conquistadors have "civilized", That men have white skin, To wage war on the oceans, I can’t stop thinking That the clouds are puppets Held by the hand of God, That men are crazy, Since they tame the bears, Since they tame the elephants, I can’t stop thinking, That men have built cities Too big for the earth, Bigger than Tennessee or Arizona, That they must now Walk to not go mad. NB, poem inspired by a song by Neil Young " can’t stop working" Je ne peux arrêter de penser, Que la terre est ronde, ronde Comme les femmes africaines, Que les mouettes sont blanches, Que les chiens sont fous, Ils aboient sur les poètes, les écrivains, Je ne peux arrêter de penser, Que le soleil est une guitare Qui joue l’été, dans le ciel bleu, Que les hommes n’aiment pas les saints, Que les poiriers sont des anges, Que les fleurs sont des hosties généreuses, Je ne peux arrêter de penser, Que le silence est une basse chapelle Construite par des bretons sauvages, Que le silence est un port tranquille, un silence Qu’on fait monter à bord des bateaux, Pour traverser les ouragans,, Je ne peux arrêter de penser, Que le silence seul, guérit l’âme, Qu’il guérit les peaux rouges Que les conquistadors ont "civilisé", Que les hommes ont la peau blanche, Pour faire la guerre aux océans, Je ne peux arrêter de penser Que les nuages sont des marionnettes Tenues par la main de Dieu, Que les hommes sont fous, Puisqu’ils dressent les ours, Qu’ils dressent les éléphants, Je ne peux arrêter de penser, Que les hommes ont construits des villes Trop grandes pour la terre, Plus grandes que le Tennessee ou l’Arizona, Qu’ils doivent maintenant Marcher pour ne pas devenir fous. NB, poème inspiré par une chanson de neil Young " can't stop working"
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