Lélia Young
traduction du poème de Patrice Desbiens.)

I remember a station wagon that slices the night
opening the northern night like a hunting knife
opens its prey
We are all there
my mother my sister her husband and her children all
in this car
Johnny B. Good Leblanc is driving his face slightly lit
vaguely by the dashboard glow
I am the only passenger not sleeping while
we continue along with an ocean of bruised green on
either side
My sister sleeps on the front seat
the darkness entering and leaving her open mouth
The night is long and without wrinkles
The night is long and without wrinkles
The night is long and without wrinkles
The night is long and without Suddenly
something tears the cloth something moves
there and
the windshield becomes a movie screen the beams
of Twentieth Century Fox and Gulf Western light up
the animal the animal the moose smack in the middle of the road
he stops and
stares at his fate hurtling toward him at 60 miles an hour
His eyes his eyes his eyes oh god his look until
the last minute and the deaf - mute shock of metal against
flesh
And my sister waking up and screaming a huge scream
mad and
final as if the soul of the moose had passed into
her
while dying and at last
the silence
the silence of our silence in
the silence between
Timmins and Toronto


Mes remerciements à ma collègue Zilpha Ellis

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