A profound postcard message

28 11 2009

**UPDATED WITH IMAGE**

This card is special because it came from someone very dear to my family. The man’s trousers are embroidered with thick thread so the postcard feels lovely and heavy.

Did I mention that I’m a Francophile? Well, it’s true! When I was fourteen or so, a family friend who comes from Frejus [too much alliteration?] sent me a postcard with a poem on the back. It has a very beautiful meaning and I’ve always remembered it. This is what she wrote:

Un noir parle à un blanc

Quand je suis né, j’étais noir Quand j’ai grandi, j’étais noir Quand je suis malade, je suis noir Quand je vais au soleil, je suis noir Quand j’ai froid, je suis noir Quand je mourrai, je serai noir…

MAIS TOI

Quand tu es né, tu était rose Quand tu as grandi, tu était blanc Quand tu es malade, tu est vert Quand tu vas au soleil, tu es rouge Quand tu as froid, tu es bleu Quand tu mourras, tu sera violet

Et tu oses me dire que je suis un homme de couleur???

En anglais it means:

A black talks to a white

When I was born, I was black When I grew up, I was black When I am ill, I am black When I go in the sun, I am black When I am cold, I am black When I die, I will be black

BUT YOU

When you were born, you were pink When you grew up, you were white When you are ill, you are green When you go in the sun, you are red When you are cold, you are blue When you die, you will be purple

And you dare to tell me that I am a man of colour???

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One response

30 11 2009
David Raikow

I’ll be posting a series of postcards of war-torn France in a few days at: http://postcardgallery.wordpress.com/

In the mean time, check out my tilt-shifted photos of the Riviera:
http://rivercontinua.wordpress.com/2009/11/21/fun-with-tilt-shifting/

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