le bouche à oreille

en savoir plus en cliquant sur l'affiche

 

 

l’oreille d’un sourd : Woody Guthrie

 

1913 Massacre    

 

Take a trip with me in 1913,

To Calumet, Michigan, in the copper country. 

I will take you to a place called Italian Hall,

I will take you to a place called Italian Hall,

Where the miners are having their big Christmas ball.

I will take you in a door and up a high stairs, 

Singing and dancing is heard everywhere, 

I will let you shake hands with the people you see,

And watch the kids dance around the big Christmas tree.

You ask about work and you ask about pay,

They’ll tell you they make less than a dollar a day, 

Working the copper claims, risking their lives, 

So it’s fun to spend Christmas with children and wives.

There’s talking and laughing and songs in the air, 

And the spirit of Christmas is there everywhere, 

Before you know it you’re friends with us all,

And you’re dancing around and around in the hall.

Well a little girl sits down by the Christmas tree lights,

To play the piano so you gotta keep quiet,

To hear all this fun you would not realize,

That the copper boss’ thug men are milling outside.

The copper boss’ thugs stuck their heads in the door,

One of them yelled and he screamed, “there’s a fire,” 

A lady she hollered, “there’s no such a thing. 

Keep on with your party, there’s no such thing.”

A few people rushed and it was only a few,

"It’s just the thugs and the scabs fooling you," 

A man grabbed his daughter and carried her down,

But the thugs held the door and he could not get out.

And then others followed, a hundred or more,

But most everybody remained on the floor, 

The gun thugs they laughed at their murderous joke, 

While the children were smothered on the stairs by the door.

Such a terrible sight I never did see,

We carried our children back up to their tree,

The scabs outside still laughed at their spree,

And the children that died there were seventy-three.

The piano played a slow funeral tune,

And the town was lit up by a cold Christmas moon, 

The parents they cried and the miners they moaned, 

"See what your greed for money has done."

 

woody guthrie     1944

 

l’œil & la plume : cercle rouge

 manuscrit de andré laude

 

 

Combien de taureaux cruels dans les faubourgs de l’amour.

Combien de taureaux dans les ruelles de l’errance

où je cherche Marie-Juana au visage d’enfance abîmé

par les matelots de Sydney, Vancouver et Brest-Recouvrance.

Combien de taureaux fous derrière mon front de rêveur.

Combien de vers dans la sombre tombe où repose mon ami.

Combien de clous enfoncés dans ce cercle rouge mon coeur.

Combien de prophètes et de sourciers au bout des déserts.

Je cherche Marie-Juana une femme sans âge,

elle est sorcière du monde des légendes des pays verts.

Elle est l’hostie sur mes lèvres

et la lampe à huile au fond de mes yeux.

Combien de taureaux aveugles et combien de feux

et combien de morts dans des guerres pour d’obscures îles.