the others's land. who the others

www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hcm4BixLjeQ&t=219s

 

monologue from 'La nuit juste avant les forêts' by Bernard-Marie Koltès

 

forgive my translation:

 

 

we would have to be someplace else without anyone around, my friend

when I come to tell you what I have to tell you, feel good like lying on the grass, something like that

that one no longer has to move with the shadow of the trees.

Then I would say: 'here I'm fine, here is my house, I lie down and greet you'.

But here, my friend, it's impossible, never seen a place where they leave you alone and say hello.

We have to send you away, they tell you, go there, you go there

Go over there, take your ass off there

and you're packing your bag, the job is somewhere else,

always somewhere else you have to go looking for it,

there is no time to lie down and to let go, there is not

time to explain and say 'i'll say goodbye'.

Kicked in the ass they would send you away, the work is there, farther and farther, up to Nicaragua.

If you want to work, you have to move, never that you can say 'this is my house and I'll say goodbye'

so much so that when I leave a place I always have the impression that this will be my home,

more than the one I'm going to live.

When they kick your ass again, you go away again

Where you go, you're always more foreign, less and less at home.

And when they kick your ass, you go away again

when you turn to look back, friend, it's always the desert.

Let's stop once and let's say 'fuck you'

I do not move anymore, you must listen to me

if we lie down on the grass for once and take all the time

that you tell your story, those coming from Nicaragua

that we tell ourselves that we are all, more or less foreign

but that's enough now, we're going to hear, calmly, all we have to say

So yes, you understand that they do not give a shit about us.

I stopped, I listened, I said to myself: 'I do not work anymore'

as long as you do not give a fuck about me.

What's the use of Nicaragua's coming up here and I'm going over there

if on all sides the same story.

When I worked again, I spoke to everyone kicked in the ass that landed here

to find work and they have been listening to me.

I have been listening to those from Nicaragua who have explained to me how it is from them

Over there there is an old general, who stays all day and all night at the edge of a forest

they bring him food because he does not have to move

who shoots on everything that moves

they bring him the ammunition when he does not have any more.

They talked to me about a general with his soldiers surrounding the forest

everything that moves becomes a target

everything that appears at the edge of the forest

all they notice that it does not have the same color as the trees

and that does not move the same way

I've been listening to this and I've been told that it's the same thing on all sides

the more I get kicked in the ass and the more I'll be a stranger

they end up here and I'll end up there

over there where everything that moves is hidden in the mountains

I have listened to all this and I said to myself: "I do not move any more, if there is no work I do not work

if work has to make me crazy and I have to kick my ass, I do not work anymore

I want to lie down, once and for all, I want to explain myself, I want the grass

the shadow of the trees, I want to scream, I want to be able to scream, even if they then shoot at me, they do that anyway,

if you do not agree, if you open your mouth,

you must hide at the bottom of the forest. But then it's better this way

at least I will have told you what I must tell you.

Done