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Movable fairs in Beirut: 1971-74

I decided to re-edit my old article “Wonderful early 1970’s:  Movable fairs in Beirut” in order to demonstrate to the current generation in Lebanon that it is highly feasible to generate a mass upheaval as was done in Tunisia and Egypt. It is a scream against the total impunity that our politicians, in this semi-State of Lebanon, are enjoying, those militia/mafia “leaders” of our civil war, a war that no one was a victor.

Our movable fair lasted 4 years, 3 years behind Paris and Woodstock, and if it were Not for the control of the PLO (Palestinian Liberation Organization) over our political system, which diffused the purpose of the movement, Lebanon would have reformed against all odds.

Woodstock musical fiesta was organized in 1968 and disbanded three days later.  The French students revolt in Paris of 1968, then joined by the working organizations,  ended a week later. The French students revolt of 1968 was a big party with deep lucidity:  banners read “Run, comrade, run.  The old world is chasing after you.” Youth was taking a reprieve by running joyously, a week of total freedom, running as fast as he could, knowing that the old world will invariably catch up with him.

These students and youth movements crossed to Lebanon in 1970 and lingered for 5 years as movable fairs in Beirut, before the civil war set in.

I witnessed that wonderful and crazy period as a university student, witnessing far more than studying.

By 1970 I was attending university, mainly math, physics, and chemistry courses.   Once the morning courses were taken care of, I roamed Beirut freely and all alone. (Would have been more pleasurable and instructive if I had friends to join me then)

For less than 5 Lebanese pounds ($2 at the time) I could see movies, watch theater pieces, or go to the empty beaches in mid September and October, eat local sandwiches of falafel, shaworma, and freshly pressed fruits.

Most of the days I ended up attending conferences, political party meetings, joining regular demonstrations and marches by university students, sit-ins, hunger strikes on the street in front of the education ministry (I tried once for half a day).

Fleeing police tanks and water hoses, or just walking all around Beirut circulating where the “movable fairs” crossed my path, gathering of people chanting slogans against the sectarian and mercantile political system, the defeatist government, not responding to the frequent bombardment of Israel in south Lebanon...

The citizens (mostly Moslem Chiaa) in the south flocked to the suburbs of Beirut, mainly in Dahieh, and labelled the “Red belt of poverty” in order to flee the successive incursions of Israel, under all lame excuses.

The Palestinian Liberation Organization, led by Yasser Arafat, and its institutions were firmly established in Beirut and in a dozen Palestinian camps.  Cash in hard currency spent by the PLO and the various resistance movements maintained the Lebanese currency very strong.

In May 1972, Beirut Cinema Club in cooperation with the US Cultural Center projected a series of Orson Wells movies such as “Citizen Kane”, “The lady from Shanghai”, “Secret report”, “Satan’s touch”, and “Falstaff”.  Wells mostly recalls the negative critics: for example, a critic said that Orson shouts like a rhinoceros” when Orson played “Candid” of Bernard Show.

Wells and Charlie Chaplin might be the greatest American directors.  Wells prefers that producers invest massively on many movies, even if one of his films are not marketed.  He said: “Without men there is no art.  Without women, men never become artists”

In May 1973, the film “Red Weddings” by French director Claude Chabrol was projected in Eldorado movie theater. There was a curfew in the previous week:  The Lebanese army tried to enter the Palestinian camp of Dbayeh (mostly Christians).

A few feddayins escaped and fled through the valley of river Nahr Kalb (Dog River); and we provided them shelter for three days in Beit-Chabab and they were to resume the trip to Dhour Showier.  An ambush by the Phalange (Kataeb) Party killed several of them on the way.

Chabrol has a particular style and a deterministic view on how events should unfold:  His movies are about illicit love affairs, murder, then punishment by the “bourgeois” legal system:  that genuinely falling in-love is irrelevant and thus must be punished, one way or another.

In June 1974, “The hour of liberation has chimed.. Out colonialists” by the young woman director Heine Srour won a special acclaim in Cannes.  This movie is about the popular revolutionary struggle of the people in Zofar (Oman, Hadramout, and south Yemen) from the British colonial power and archaic monarchic structures.

Heine invested two years in preparation and shot the one-hour movie with the rudiment of equipment and finances.  Heine and three technicians walked hundreds of kilometers with the fighters under scorching sun and the bombing of British jets.

Heine conducted interviews in the local Arabic slang the “Himyari” and projected the essential roles that women shared in that revolution along the fighters.

This movie was one of the first to broach situation in other Arabic States outside of Syria, Egypt, Iraq, or Palestine.  Movies on the Algerian revolution were to be produced shortly after.

In February 1975, director Borhan Awalweyeh showed his movie “Kfar Kassem“.  Hundreds of spectators remained in the theater way after midnight discussing the movie.

The film is a retrospective documentary of the genocidal massacre that Israel committed against the Palestinians in the village of Kfar Kassem in 1956 before it invaded Sinai.  Peasants returning from the fields were killed because they could not know about the curfew that the Israeli troops declared in their absence.

This movie was based on the novel of the same name by Assem Jundi.  Issam Mahfouz wrote the dialogue in the Palestinian Arabic slang.

Lebanon of 1974, and particularly the Capital Beirut, experienced extraordinarily cultural, social, and political activities, quantitatively and qualitatively.

First, the number of women writers increased dramatically.  As Georges Rassi wrote: “In the Arab World, every woman writer is worth 100 free minded men“.

Second, many famous authors and poets opted to write columns in dailies; a move that brought them in close touch with the people and the daily difficulties.

Third, artists and thinkers from all over the Arab World settled in Beirut.  Most of these intellectuals were fleeing oppression and persecution for free expressions.  The Egyptian intellectuals flocked in great number as President Sadat had decided to connect with Israel and leave the Arab problems and the Palestinian cause way behind.

Fourth, the Lebanese TV witnessed a big jump in quality of local productions thanks to the director Paul Tannous.

Fifth, many cultural clubs were instituted and Arab States organized exhibitions and cultural events.

Most importantly, women became very vocal and active for women rights and drastic reforms in the laws and social awareness.

Late author Mai Ghoussoub was very young then, but she was one of the leaders of “Committees for Free women.”

Initially, men were permitted to join in the discussions until they proved to be elements of heckling and disturbances.  The committees of free women decided to meet among women because their cause must be priority in urgent reforms and not a usual side-show tackled by reformist political parties.

Arab movies of quality were being shown such as “Events of red years” by Akhdar Hamina;  “Beirut…O Beirut” by Maroun Baghdadi; “May… The Palestinians” by Rafic Hajjar; “The bird” by Youssef Chaheen; “Al Haram” by Henry Barakat; “Hold on… O Sea” by Khaled Seddik.

Karl Marx said:  ”When history repeats its cycles, the next time around is a farce.”  Spring of 68 was a sympathetic and spontaneous farce; it was an innovating and creative revolt with no arms.

Spring in Paris was a movable fair, an all free-invited party.  It was a movable feast for sharing ideas and desires for justice, peace, liberty, and pleasure. There were plenty of generosity and compassion:  Youth was feeling bored of the old world system of unjust order, capitalism, petrified ideologies and dogmas.

It was a humongous fair where affluent lifestyle in the western States of plenty hide the miseries of the lowest classes living in shantytowns.

It was in a period for the third world struggling to emerge from the slavery stage of colonialism.

Spring fairs in the western world spread to most nations where the partying lasted and lasted.

The virus of the movable feast reached countries with old systems destroyed by the colonial powers:  The newer power systems were unstable and mostly haphazard to come chasing after mass movable fairs.

Spring of 68 crossed to Lebanon and lasted 5 years and emerged on a civil war that lasted 13 years and produced 300 thousand casualties (10% of the population!)

Note 1:  Details of this introspection were supplied by Georges Al Rassi in “Stations along the trail of Lebanese and Arab movies

Note 2: This student movement in Lebanon was mostly let by the students of our public university. The public university, in Choweifat, was mostly controlled by leftist-leaning organizations, including the teaching staff. Most probably, the colonial powers got weary of the growing influence of this university that was spreading to the private universities. The right-wing parties , the president and the army were ready to confront this movement by strong arm tactics.

Note 3:  You may read more details on my next post https://adonis49.wordpress.com/2010/10/19/movable-fairs-beirut-1970-74/

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My bus tour experience in Turkey: 7 days in different hotels

I liked this bus tour and already missed this enduring vacation. I am looking forward to another bus tour to different regions in Turkey.

Note 1: I say it upfront that the worst parts in this tour is to “incarcerate” us in modern malls for 3 hours in each major city. These 5 unnerving visits highly upset me. Maybe many would like to visit a mall once or twice, but many of us would rather be in a zoo (if available) or a park with monster roller coasters., and would have settled for a place with babyfoot (fuzzball) , ping pong and dart throwing…..

We didn’t even visit any old souks where we could buy some items that peple back home wanted, like cotton abayaat and other exotic gifts.

My purpose of taking this “exhausting” trip was to test my endurance, hopefully for climbing the Himalayas (and I could take more physical traumas), but the repeated Malls visits took the wind out of my morale.

Note 2: There is no way to pay in other currencies but in Turkish Lira (TL) or credit cards. If you fail to exchange currencies you die of hunger since no shop would accept dollars or Euros: I think government restrictions are followed, except in touristic sites for buying gift. One person told me that he is using his credit cards for everything. Thus, once all my TL were spent, I bought a cologne bottle by credit for less than $3. And I kept using the card for eating.

Note 3: Truth is, none of the guides (Lebanese and Turkish) attempted to introduce us at the first meeting. I could have made this tour without knowing anybody if I didn’t force myself to introduce myself.

The introduction could be: “It is standard procedure to introduce ourselves at our first meeting, at least with our first name. If you feel uneasy, then say “pass” 

Actually, it was on the last day that I haphazardly knew that 2 groups were from my district and neighboring towns. Truth is that I felt alone most of the tour, like when I arrive early for breakfast /dinner, no one would join my table. And had to mingle without invitation.

Going out does barely change the habits of Not introducing ourselves: this habit of “tarkeez al tarboush”.

We landed in Izmir (Smyrna) on Monday morning around 11:30 am and had a “panoramic” tour around this big city of 3.5 million, stretched around an inlet of the sea. Izmir is an industrial city and the sea was badly polluted from former tanning factories and  is being cleaned up.

Smyrna was a destination to Athens philosophers’ (Protagoras and Anaxagoras) who were banned from the city, mostly  when condemned as heretics, and its close region of Milet by a river. It was a main province during the Farisi empire until Alexander defeated this empire. All the Greek city-states had trade contoires in this city in the antiquity,

We slept at the 5 stars Wyndham hotel and I enjoyed its indoor comprehensive spa.

It was the Adha Eid (the sacrifice in Muslim religion) and Turkish had vacation for 3 days and most businesses and pharmacies were closed. Many Lebanese take advantage to buy very urgent inexpensive drugs,  in large bundle, compared to Lebanon.

Once I entered a pharmacy with the group. I didn’t want to by anything. I inquired what kind of drug I should buy 3 years down the drain. I ended up settling for a B-complex vitamin bottle

We resumed to Ephesus and walked the vestiges of this vast ancient city. Apparently, the Austrian archaeologists barely excavated 10% in the last 100 years. When Austria will run out of funds, the German are in the list to continue the work.

The Turkish government reap the entrance fees without spending any money on the archaeology sites. It was hot and the sloping marble street was slippery and the tour was done quickly at my displeasure. Our Turkish guide for the tour was carrying a Turkish flag on a stick to follow. him I ended up following 3 different groups with guides holding the same flag.

One of the 7th most famous wonders in antiquity, the “Temple of Artemis”, is reduced to a single colon and badly repaired. Apparently, the Christians dismantled this “atheist” temple, as the Muslims later will dismantle Christian sites.

We resumed our drive to Meryemena on a hill, supposedly where Virgin Mary died, based on a dream from a bed-ridden German crippled woman. I strongly doubt this myth, since it was Not possible that Mary, who died at age 56, could reach this remote destination. The most plausible location is in actual Syria and on the seashore.

The next day we drove to Pamukkele and the Hieropark hotel. I enjoyed the open-air iron mud-like pool, watching as in the balcony the night entertainment of music and belly dancing. I then swam in the open-air pool and could Not share the belly dancer in my swimming trunk. I liked this supposed 4 stars hotel more than in the other hotels.

We visited the Roman ancient city of Hieropolis with chalk areas and spring pools and slippery low-level pools. A great visit. I think I experience a sudden kind of diarrhea and barely reached the far away WC. Excellent day to spend in that quaint town.

We resumed our trip to Konia, a 5 hours trip.  At one point I told the guide that there is urgency to stop at the first gas station and Not wait for the “programmed break”. I had to come forward twice for the guide to take my request seriously. Many stepped out of the bus and thanked me for my straightforward move.

The “program” made us visit the Mevlana Museum, a place where Imam Jalal El Din taught his students of dervishes. At night, a bunch of the group spent money to watch an hour of Whirling Dervishes. I had watched them in a TV documentary, which I had cut short. I didn’t like this Hilton hotel with its long corridors that reminded me of old hotel style.

The “program” wanted us to visit the Uchicar castle where disciple John was “buried’. I refused to visit this castle because it was apparent that its crumbling outside walls, haphazardly filled with little stones, were “renovated” with  plain sculpted stones. And it was hot and I was tired for these “archaeological” meandering.

The temple of Baalbak in Lebanon is far more majestic and far more ancient than any temple that exists or ever existed.

We proceeded to Cappadocia where over 150 flying hot balloons is performed about 250 mornings per year . The hot balloon morning was cancelled by the authority for climate  causes and reported for the next morning.

I also refused to share in that experience. 18 of our tour group were crammed in a single “nacel” but they experienced a wonderful event from up there. Our guide refused me to join the group, just to watch the frenetic preparation and procedure for the flight, a decision that has no reasonable foundation at all.

It seems that a ticket for a seat in a balloon is $50 if purchased in Turkey, instead of the $175. It was reported to me by one of the group when walking the main street in Cappadokya (as written in Turkey) , and being more curious than the rest of us. Obviously, if seats are “available”.

It is in this Goreme town that I got lost. The Turkish guide said that we will meet at a Chinese restaurant. I visited the first Chinese place and no one was there. I was told there were 8 other Chinese restaurants. One of them is across the main street, and it was closed. And I ended wandered around and checking on the other “closed” Chinese restaurants (probably they take siesta time?).

I got lost off the main street. Hard to find a Turkish speaking English or French or Arabic… I met a guy wearing a large back pack and speaks English  and he said he is a trekking person. He used his GPS but was of no help. After 30 minutes of walking I re-located the main street.

I was exhausted and it was hot and walked straight to the bus. It was locked. On my way back, I met 3 of our group and were urgently trying to locate a public WC. I told them there are none where they are searching. They ignored me.

I resumed my walk and sat in the first “restaurant” and ordered hot tea (chi) and used their WC.  One funny female member said: “So for ordering a hot tea you are waiting for another hour to go back to the bus?”

We visited several sites of these caves dug in the hills, like the Nevsehir valley, the Goreme Open Air Museum and the Red “canyon”. Our Turkish guide Levant flew his tiny drone to film the valley. I thought he was preparing a documentary on this area that he is most fond of. Apparently, Levant is a “professional” photographer and had exhibited some of his pictures in London.

We also visited this Kaymakliunderground city” of 4 levels, dug in a chain and series of caves and holes. Apparently, there are 8 more underground cities, one of them is of 13 floors deep. Most of them were excavated during the Hittite empire, 2000 years BC. Many claim that Christians at some periods inhabited these cities. I believe that these habitation were reserved for slaves and prisoners.

On Saturday we drove to Adana and were parked in a Ramada hotel, in the downtown, with no facilities, save a tiny gym.

A group were whisked to the Optimum Mall. Later, with nothing to do, I opted to walk 1.5 km to there and returned in the same bus at 8 pm.

A group paid $45 for dinner and for watching Turkish traditional dancing, an event that I opted to ignore: I prefer to participate in the dancing and Not sit and watch.

The group reported that they were invited to the dancing floor and many Spanish and Italians danced: a piece of news that I was not filled with, otherwise I would have shared in that event, instead of spending a much boring night. Actually, I planned to work on my laptop, but I could Not recharge it and the connection failed on me that night.

A video, shared to our Izmir group, showed one of our female members joining the belly dancer. In fact, she ignored the dancer and performed her our “choreography” and the official dancer had to step aside. Our group belly dancer added a section in her dance performance, bowed , bent over (mtayyazi) for a while.

I finished reading a book and then remembered that Maria, a young girl sitting behind me in the bus with her mother, initiated me to YouTube this day on the bus. I listened to 2 hours on these old musics of the 70’s.

On the bus that day, Maria connected me to the Rolling Stones at my request. I was so enthralled with the music that when the guide Natasha sounded on the micro: “I have something to say. Are you listening?” I removed one earplug and replied: “Only with one ear”

The next day we paid a visit to the marina in Mersin and I had bass fish with a large Efes beer.

Actually, two days ago, as we were roaming the streets of the town of Seljuk, in the Ephesus province, for a “free lunch”, meaning with our own money and I spent most of my TL on eating “for fee”, I patronized a small eating place and asked for a local Turkish beer. He suggested a very large bottle of Efes, claiming it was made in Seljuk. Later, the Turkish guide rectified: This beer is made in Istanbul.

We returned to Adana in order to fly from its tiny airport. But before that, we were parked in a mall to wait for 3 hours for the airport departure. That was a grueling ending for a good trip.

Our plane our delayed 2 hours because another plane was hired to pick us and the returning hajjis (pilgrims) from Mecca were hoarding all the available planes back to Lebanon.

My taxi driver had to take a nap in his car and I waited outside, hoping that he didn’t lose patience, but he showed after 15 min of worrisome wait.

(I learned later that mobile phones should be closed when boarding a plane to another country, otherwise, when we land we will not be able to receive contact on our mobile)

Note 4: This sentence “It is Not in the program” is what ire me most. In the last night of our tour, I suggested that all the group go to a club, a karioki club for example, and apply our talents in singing, dancing… The idea was good, but the guide replied: “This event is Not in the program”. We had a night off, even an afternoon off. What then? Extra expenses in gas bus? Extra expenses to the driver? Do you think anyone would Not have chipped in for the additional expenses? An event that would have gathered the group and had a great time to meet.

Note 5: Couples mostly remember to take a taxi to visit an old souk. But single people barely can come up with this ingenious idea. It is the guide responsibility to remind everyone of this possibility to schedule their “free time”.

Note 6: Asian tourists preceded us on every bus stop (break), every touristic sites, every hotel. They were from mainland China, Taiwan, Thailand, Singapore, and even from Kazakhstan (I spotted two goddesses of them and had to investigate their origin). Canadian Asians were there and who were transferred by their companies to Japan, Singapore… and they insisted 3 times that they are Canadians. All of these emerging countries with large middle-classes who are on the move

Note 7: We drove miles in rich fields, trees of all kinds, and fruit trees that have been harvested. A vast country of plenty in the valley between the Taurus mountain chains. And even the dry vast plateau of Konya, where barely a tree could be seen, the fields of cereals were harvested.

Maybe because of the Adha Eid or the fields were already harvested, I didn’t spot a farmer or an agricultural equipment working the land.  Turkey manufacture most of the kitchen industrial products and export them to the EU, products that Europe desisted from resuming production because of expensive workforce. Turkey has many carries, mostly for white marble and extensive construction works for new towns and new building. The guide told us that Turkish “construction companies” were exported to many countries, especially in Libya, Qatar and Asia neighboring countries such as Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan…

Note 8: This is an ongoing updated article. I asked members to add comments so that I make a comprehensive article, but no one contributed or responded. One member wrote that this was her worst vacation and she felt a total stranger among our group. Maybe her feeling is founded.

Day 8 performance of Clowns without borders

I don’t usually like to share many pictures per post but really every single one of them is worth it.

We performed for the Roma community last night in a beautiful village in #Romania and it was one of a kind experience. the first time in my 12 years of clowning that I have heard people laughing that much and enjoying every single second.

U know these comedy shows where they add extra laughter after every single act? Well it was even more than that.

This community is a group of people who know how and when to have fun, love music, love dancing and love to laugh despite their harsh life. They are free, loud and very at ease with their bodies.

That little kid with this white suit 🙂 he was so intelligent, so sharp and so sweet. Laughing when he should have and wanted to. Playing along when needed and observing well the details of the show.

That girl with beautiful eyes, didn’t stop going back and forth at the end of the show to give us big big hugs. She was wild, happy and so alive that she could give energy to the whole world and still have some for herself.

And that old lady, the oldest in the pics, with a beautiful flowery scarf on the head well apparently she was their leader of the community.

What a leader. What a community. What a life time experience.

Tonight I slept in a different gypsy village where in a bit we will be performing with our host ( who’s a kick ass gypsy musician ) in yet another gypsy town in #Romania with Clowns Without Borders USA David Lichtenstein Dustin J Allen Jeroen Wils Clown Me In #diariesofaclown#thebalkanroute
Photos by: #AliJDalloul

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Mon cher Ado. Part 92

Les souvenirs , mon cher Charlot , se bousculent ce matin dans ma tête, Ils se jalousent .

L’un d’entre eux a retenu mon attention : celui de Hussein , le cireur de chaussures qui passait dans notre village en été , tous les samedis , afin de cirer les chaussures des uns et des autres , car il faillaient qu’elles fussent propres pour dimanche ,le jour du Seigneur .

Moi , j’attendais de le voir arriver avec sa boite à cirage et son petit tabouret , ayant auparavant groupé les chaussures à cirer .

Bien installé , à l’ombre d’un olivier , devant la maison , il entreprenait sa besogne avec le doigté d’un artiste .

Ce qui m’émerveillait surtout, c’était lorsqu’il se mettait , en phase finale , après avoir nettoyé la chaussure et après avoir appliqué la cire , c’était de le voir brosser avec une sorte de brosse en croissant de lune , la chaussure qu’il ressuscitait et qui se mettait à miroiter au doux soleil de notre village .

Aujourd’hui , comme le vendeur de glace , le cireur de chaussures ne passe plus , et notre village souffre d’un manque de chaleur  humaine …

 

Day 7 of performances:  Clown without borders in the Balkan refugee camps

Day 7 of performances:
One workshop and a performance for around 200 people or so. It was beautiful in general, the performances got a lot of laughs and people kept coming and coming.

What struck me the most today are these two kids. One of them was barely two years old, u can see her in one of the pics. She was the most playful one, the one who made everyone dance and the one who was always doing her own thing and living in her own special world.

Oh… how I wished I could be in her world and certainly didn’t want her to come to our world.

The second boy had a harsher story. Him, he was 14 years old, acting like a 20 year old in an old hotel right by the Croatian border, filled with people from Afghanistan, Iran, Iraq and even one from Lebanon.

The kid is from Afghanistan, he left home two years ago, when he was 12. He left alone and he is still alone.

All through the show he was happy, laughing out loud but wanting to act like an adult. I couldn’t help but wonder about this 14 year old boy, in his green shirt, and the so many scars he had on his head from all the beating he went through on borders, living this kind of life, having to bear dealing with adults and mafias and police, living the life of an adult when he’s just a kid.

Just waiting to be free and waiting to help his parents flee the country.

Today I feel so humbled to be able to share joy and laughter with him – today I can only think of one thing: this kid deserves to be happy and playing, for whatever reason, this kid shouldn’t be going through that.
#diariesofaclown David Lichtenstein Dustin J Allen Clowns Without Borders USA Clown Me In #serbia #croatia #europe Jeroen Wils

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Mon cher Ado. Part 102

L’ineptie mon âme court les rues .
Elle est étourdissante .
Elle est suffocante .

Nous l’embrassons souvent sans nous méfier .
Car elle se fait douce , mielleuse .
Elle porte parfois le masque de l’amour .


Alors , on lui cède .
On devient loqueteux .


” Une force qui va !
Agent aveugle et sourd des mystères funèbres! ”
Dit Victor Hugo dans Hernani.


En définitive , il n’y a que l’amour , mon cher Charlot , le vrai , ( Mireille dira l’amour de Dieu ) qui nous prémunit contre la bêtise qui guette , qui nous enchaîne et nous assombrit l’âme en nous jetant au fond d’un cachot proche de la géhenne .

Note: Life is basically a single friend: a compassionate, caring friend toward the less fortunate and who matches your “invariables” on the basics of life, and who is at your death bed to shield you from the trauma of deciding: Is there a God or Not.

Mon cher Ado. Part 109

Après avoir visité Florence , Venise et Rome , on revient chez nous , ma chère Greta , la tête pleine de tous ces chefs-d’œuvre , de ces peintures et sculptures , de ces merveilles que le bon Dieu a inspiré aux hommes .

Baudelaire , en se servant de la prosopopée , n’a pas pu s’empêcher de faire parler la Beauté qui s’adresse aux hommes , leur disant :

” je suis belle , ô mortels ! Comme un rêve de Pierre ,
Et mon sein ,où chacun s’est meurtri tour à tour ,
Est fait pour inspirer au poète un amour
Éternel et muet ainsi que la matière ……..

Face à ces merveilles que les artistes , bien inspirés , nous ont livré , on ne peut , nous simples mortels , que nous prosterner et pleurer tout bas , et remercier le Ciel de nous offrir tant de belles choses .


adonis49

adonis49

adonis49

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