Every civilization erects vanities. The wise man accommodates them better than the king.
** English version
The shaman had taken off his hat
Laid down his threadbare cape
Gave his cane back to the trees
Scattered warm ashes
Looked at the black sun
----
The shaman had wept day and night
Tears of wisdom
A trickle, a stream, a river
A tumultuous torrent
Until his throat was dry
---
Alone he contemplated a stoic icon
Motionless, his gaze fixed
The reflection of a chained soul
This powerful calm grounded him
Among his people, the living men
---
A sharp breath upset things
Suddenly the chief's hut shook
Rain pierced its thatched roof
People shouted "fire", danced, gave thanks
People circled around the well of black light
---
The hut was nothing but ruin
Standing alone amidst the rubble
A wooden mask rose
Carried by an invisible force
An intense glow for the duration of a prayer
---
Then the earth became fertile again
Furrows were dug in the fields
Peace returned to the village
Men and women chose
A new hut, a new chief
---
The wooden mask had been burned
And the shaman ordered
That it should stop there.
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** French lyrics
Le chamane avait retiré son chapeau
Déposé sa cape élimée
Rendu sa canne aux arbres
Dispersé des cendres tièdes
Regardé le soleil noir
---
Le chamane avait pleuré jour et nuit
Des larmes de sagesse
Un filet, un ruisseau, une rivière
Un torrent tumultueux
Jusqu’à en avoir gorge sèche
---
Seul il contempla une icône stoïque
Immobile le regard figé
Le reflet d’une âme enchaînée
Ce puissant calme l’enracina
Parmi les siens les hommes en vie
---
Un souffle sec renversa les affaires
Brusquement la case du chef trembla
La pluie transperça son toit de paille
On cria au feu on dansa on rendit grâce
On tournait autour du puits de lumière noire
---
La case n’était plus que ruine
Debout seul au milieu des décombres
Un masque de bois s’éleva
Porté par une force invisible
Un éclat intense le temps d’une prière
---
Puis la terre redevint fertile
On dessina des sillons dans les champs
Au village la paix s’installa
Hommes et femmes choisirent
Une nouvelle case un nouveau chef
---
Le masque en bois avait été brûlé
Et le chamane ordonna
Qu’on en s’en tint là.
---
(C) 2025 Brice-Arnaud Guerin
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