This is my translation of a poem by Walloon poet and singer-songwriter Julos Beaucarne, shared by one of the participants in my Five Rhythms workshops. The original is entitled “Femmes et Hommes de la Texture” and is here.
Women and men of texture
Of speech and of the wind, you who weave fabrics out of words
On the tip of your teeth, do not allow yourselves to become attached
Do not permit yourself to be saddled
With impossible dreams
You are loved
Just as long as you fit into the dream made out of you
Then the great river of Love flows gently over you
Your days are happy under the mauve chestnut trees
But if it should happen that you are no longer
The person who inhabited the dream
Then you meet headwinds
The boot lists, the sail rips
The lifeboats are put to sea
Words of love become knives
Which are plunged in your heart
The person who yesterday cherished you
Hates you today
The person who was so attentive
To your laughter and tears
No longer can bear the sound of your voice
Nothing is any longer open to discussion
Your suitcase is thrown from the window
It’s raining, and you walk up the street
In your black overcoat
Is it love to want the other
To abandon his own pathway and his own journey ?
Is it love to lock up the other
In the prison of your own dream ?
Women and men of texture of speech and of the wind
You who weave fabrics out of words
At the tip of your teeth
Do not accept to be the object of dreams
Dreamt by any other than yourself
Each has his own path
Which sometimes he alone can understand
Women and men of texture,
Of speech and of the wind
If only we all could firstly
And above all
Be lovers of Life
Then we would no longer be these eternal questioners,
These eternal beggars
Who waste so much energy and time
In waiting for others to give them signs,
Kisses, recognition
If only we were, above all and in the first place,
Lovers of Life
Everything would be a gift for us
We would never be disappointed.
One should not allow oneself to dream upon others
Only I know the pathway which leads me
To the destination of my journey
Everyone is in his own life and his own skin
To each his texture, his weaving and his words
Copyright notice
The original source was found on a website which carries the following copyright notice: “Any quotation must mention the author and the website address www.julos.be. Photos, PDF documents and MP3 files may be downloaded for personal use only. Commercial use is subject to copyright law.” The present translation has not been reviewed or authorized by the author, is not presented here with any commercial purpose, and any use of it should abide by the above terms. I waive any claim of copyright in favor of the original author.