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)