Strolling and holding on up to the end of his dream,
Tirelessly keep going, despite the failure.
Never giving up like all the little guys,
After madness, enjoy the rest.
At this moment, it is true I am out of breathe,
And for once, doubt is first.
All my arts can fight, fear, depression,
Tiredness has its heart set on me.
Getting out of my head all the torments, the troubles,
Giving the best of yourself and despite everything
Considering sun is coming back everywhere
Pleasure of the days and wonder of the nights.
Monday was not an ordinary day. Florence went back to work at th insurance underwriter in La Défense. I found out – since I stayed here – I liked to be surprised by the outside noise, to learn everyday was particular. Sunday morning was silent. Instead, when the week began, there were a lot of specific noise. Several engines got going, car doors were slamming heavier than usual. Then, the streets filled with pupils talking loudly.
This morning, I got several phone calls? Despite the pains of my soul and body which had not still accepted my old man stroll up to the chrch, these calls gave me hope. The organization of the summer festivals and gigs was going to remain under my artistic direction but ‘correpondencely” and “distancely”. This summer, everything will take place but without me. But I will be there for sure next year!
This is an extract from the translation in English of the book «Death will wait» written by Michel Hilger and Gilbert Bordes. For further information about the book, consult this page.
The translation of the book has been completed with the work of Audrey Rameau. The English version is not yet available for sale, waiting for the authorization of the publisher.
If you are an English reader that is eager to discover the book, please email us a message to share your interest. Thanks in advance for your involvment.