Words from a sculpted bench
I go, I am going, I live
I live, I am going, I go
In a new way.
Let no sadness impress your heart
That yesterday, a beautiful tree was I
Sad to perhaps disappear in smoke, I was…
But a little brother came and sculpted me, and
My body he loved for the love that I was
With the pain of poets in front of our death,
We that are trees.
But look, with some pieces of myself,
Here I am all of a piece (the tree I was)
Come, I have a new joy of welcoming you
To “heart-bench”, in “heart-time”, in “heart-of soul.”
Come without sadness for I will take you
In a new way, in another journey,
That which is hidden to all external regard
And it is thus that… I go, I am going, I live
I live, I am going, I go
In a new way
To a new life
Michel Mazzoni (translation from French)