Digomprenusted

MISUNDERSTANDING

 

What's in it for you to stir up

My too tender heart?

Why do you inflame

My too active brain with madness?

You know very well

--Or don't you know?-

--In spite of an invincible love-

There are too, many differences between us

Between city-dwellers and peasants.

 

Their mockery has wounded me

And my audacity has wounded them

--Why that understanding (misunderstanding)

Eternally between us?

--Why mock is

Scorn us

Make fun of us

Although we love you

The living sap of your living heart

Of your bare earth--oh my Country!

My Brittany. My love. My Life.

They love you too--they say--

--Yes then! Your brilliant multicoloured skirt

Your green woods. Your streams.

Your golden heath. Your alluring seas.

Your birds and your flowers.

 

But they should be repulsed

To hold between their white fingers

A handful of Soil of their Country

Soaked so often with the sweat

--and blood-

Of generations of Bretons.

 

 Because of love for you

Sacred Soil of my Country

We suffer that disrespect

--done to you-

To be despised for loving you too much

Brittany, my only love

For you all my strength until the last spark

Until the hour when you will open my arms

On my rageless and lifeless body

While my arent Soul passes

Toward the Paradise of our Race.

 

June 1968.