Translated from French by Eponine Howarth.‍

You who pass by
well-dressed in all your muscles
a garment that suits you well
that doesn’t suit you
that suits you just about
you who pass by
animated by a life that surges through your veins
and clings tightly to your skeleton
with a lively athletic clumsy stride
laughing frowning, you are beautiful
so ordinary
so ordinarily everyone
so beautiful in your ordinariness
in all your diversity
with this life that holds you back
with this life that prevents you
from feeling your chest as it follows your leg
your hand on your hat
your hand on your heart
the kneecap gently rolling in the knee
how can I forgive you for being alive…
You who pass by
well-dressed in all your muscles
how can I forgive you
they are all dead
You pass by and drink on the terraces
you are happy she loves you
ill-temper worries about money
how how
can you forgive yourselves for being alive
how how
will you make yourselves forgiven
by those who have died
so that you may go on
well-dressed in all your muscles
so that you may drink on the terraces
so that you may be younger every spring
I beg you
do something
learn a move
a dance
something that gives you a reason
that gives you the right
to be clothed in your own skin and hair
learn to walk and to laugh
because it would be such a shame
in the end
that so many have died
and that you are living
without doing anything with your life.

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