Le déserteur
Boris VianINGLESE / ENGLISH / ANGLAIS [7] - John Hayday | |
THE DESERTER Dear Mister President, I write this letter truthfully And given enough time maybe you'll read what I have sent. For I've received with fright a letter from the army Informing that they need me in the trenches Wednesday night. But Mister President, my heart was never willing I wasn't made for killing, you'll never have me bent. I hope you don't feel hurt by reading my confession I've made a firm decision: I'm going to desert. I've felt the pains of war: my father followed orders And died, just like my brothers. My kids I hardly saw. My mother's suffering ended and where she is resting No bombs and no molesting upon her may descend. When I a captive was they took away my wife That woman was my life, and all that's left is loss. Tomorrow I will rise and close my front door silently At dawn, and leave behind me the dead years of my life. I now will spend my time a pilgrim on a voyage So all can hear this message, be told about this crime: Do not accept that hate, refuse to obey their orders, Do not commit their murders, be not a soldier made. If blood must now be shed you should give some of yours For, President, your laws like apostles' words us led. If my arrest you plot, please tell the guards that catch me That I no arms will carry, and safely can be shot. | THE DESERTER Spoken: Men whose names are great, I'm writing you this letter That you will read, perhaps, If you have the time. This morning through my door there fell the orders telling me Where I must go, where I must be to serve you in your war. Dear sirs who rule the earth this war of yours is not for me For the deaths of other men can't be the purpose of my birth. I bear you no ill will but you should know that men like me Think war is just stupidity and man has had his fill. The days of all our lives have just seen husbands dying And little children crying, and the misery of wives. And mothers in their tears, while others just grow fat on war And do not grieve a moment for those wasted wasting years. And prisoners of war who prison robs of heart and mind Of youth, of joy and all that's kind and all that's gone before. Tomorrow I will go, I'll turn my back upon the past And try to find some peace at last but where I do not know. I'll beg my way around and tell all people that I find Until I've told all human kind that life is ours to live. And if you have lust for blood then let the blood be yours For yours are all the bloody wars, dear sirs who rule the earth. If you send your police to hunt and catch me as I go Tell them I am unarmed and so they can shoot me in peace. Unarmed I'm safe to kill. |