In sunlight, which confuses the gray stone studded with white blue sky, the man lay quartered. legs of clay soil.
In his bed falls, four women stand hieratic dignity of mourners all dressed.
Four women dropped from the vertical drape .... At
imagine, contained in his despair, one of them a patina which is made of limestone chalk.
From white chalk to tell the whites of the existence on the blackboard of a life devastated.
"Come z'enfants of the Fatherland"
They stand, glued back, children, lined gray schoolboy blue, gray blue sentence already.
And watching.
Frozen.
Row
The stone grave, prints and confronts the time in the contents of silence.
the middle, between the women and children, this heap of rubble, stones and masses, the remains of the damage, the crumbs scattered together forever and forever in the gray uniform stand of giant crude and still bearing the man's name.
He went like an eagle in a storm of freezing rain, he went to the North. Then he walked all wings, sank in the heart of the land for gaps. Has pioneered a new way to tread the world, without language or thought.
On the map, travel logs, traces scribbled alone for the battalion.
War it was the song of death! He can never tell it. They burned the earth, ashes returned to each cut, were mixed with the charred bodies. In the ruins, they ran into hell, scattered.
One day someone who was no longer someone has drawn, eyes wild, he was shot.
a stroke.
Today, shaded branches dark, starry, one wonders who cultivates yet the flowerbed on the marble floor.
Women are headed an elegant feast.
They capture the light, the sacred and sacrifice.
They are the ones that radiate on the days that stretch, babysitters steles imaginary ruins blended.
It is they who write the history of man, war and the forgotten. The
losers.
Only the silence of stone for one prayer.
BONNETAT Therese - October 23, 2009 - At Memorial Lodève (sculpted by Paul Dardé)
War memorials pacifist Paul Dardé
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