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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Follow me, Translation of Piere Emmanuel’s Suis-moi by T. Wignesan Everything begins on a morning like just another but which becomes its own following day. The next day of a common event of which in an instant nothing will be left. But for the moment it’s still yesterday and each individual attends to his everyday tasks The fishermen are on their fishing boats and the énarques* go about fulfilling their important duties. This happens to be a working day and not a holiday nobody can spare the time even if out there somewhere there’s the sky (But nobody either wants to take it for a Sunday so long as the idea drags him down in the dumps.) The way things are ordered by right is fine but to entertain doubts about it all leads to losing one’s place Nothing therefore must ever transpire here but that which must allow business to take place as usual. Now, it’s always on such a morning whether intentionally or not Jesus decided to go Meeting Phillip on the way he said to him : Follow me ! and Phillip obeyed him at once Leaving behind the police and the banks and the Industry and the National Education Ministry And watching tv in the evenings in the bosom of the family inculcates in us social wisdom. Right at the moment they set off they caused the the Great Big Shop to tumble down Where at every moment things are bought and sold but not Life nor the eternal Next Day. These things are devoid of commercial value and therefore without price because they make a present of themselves And it’s just then that one realises that in the Shopping Mall there’s absolutely no one about. For a long time perhaps imprisoned in this Void one has looked for the exit. It’s also possible that one loses hope in this stasis and in this frenetic state . Yet without a lull dispelling the buffeting caused by the hungry crowd by itself In the distance close by mounting and somber the call of this irresistible and absurd : Follow-me ! If need be I’ll come out like a fetus ! the first born head first ! The voice tugs at me in spite of myself that I may be certain is my only prayer Just as Jesus long before seeing Phillip saw Nathaniel under the fig tree He looks at me this tomorrow all of a sudden yesterday has ceased becoming endless. Tomorrow arrives while my head is beyond all stuck while I am still Sniffing the humid night with stars I strain towards my daybreak May this morning just like any other be the definitive Today May the dawn slice the Eastern Sky like one does with the abdomen and may it cut open the flesh of the dead to the Quick. * énarques : A graduate of the elite higher education school in Paris, National School for Administration (Ecole nationale d’administration) which supplies candidates for the top administrative posts in government. (Tu, O.C. t. II, p. 627) © T. Wignesan – Paris, October 16, 2014
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