Emile Tubiana
Ma terre natale

Beja, Tunisise

« Vous voyez ces plaines! Elles sont une partie de moi-même et moi je suis une partie d'elles! » Puis : « Elles sont sacrées ». Ces champs et ces plaines restent toujours ma terre natale, comme pour un Français les Vosges ou la vallée du Rhône, comme pour un Allemand la Rhénanie ou la Westphalie. Et vous, habitants de cette noble cité, mes voisins, mes amis, vous qui êtes nés de la même terre, nos familles ont vécu des siècles sous le même ciel, nous avons dégusté ensemble l’air pur de nos plaines, de nos montagnes et de nos collines, nous avons été bercés par le même amour que nos grands-mères et nos grands-pères ont su nous transmettre. Ils nous ont enrichis du patrimoine spirituel accumulé de génération en génération pendant des siècles. Je ne me souviens pas de vos noms ni de vos visages, mais je sais qui vous êtes, que vous soyez vivants ou dans l’au-delà, je vous reconnaîtrai de si loin, car vous êtes les grains de cette même terre que moi, et je vous aime inconditionnellement. Vous allez me dire:

« Pourquoi vous nous avez quittés, juste lorsque nous avions le plus besoin de vous? » Je vous répondrai:

« C’est ma destinée qui a voulu me conduire et me forger afin que je découvre les valeurs de nos ancêtres et de l’amour. Sans cette destinée je serais comme une bougie sans la flamme qui nous éclaire et qui nous anime, tout simplement un homme sans vie. Peu importe si vous m’aimiez ou pas et si vous appartenez à une religion ou à une autre. Le fait que vous êtes nés de la même terre, vous êtes de la même graine que moi, et rien au monde ne pourra changer l’empreinte spéciale qui nous distingue de tout le monde et qui fait de nous le bagi (le béjaois). Que nous soyons proche ou loin de notre de notre terre natale, ce n’est qu’elle qui pourra nous fertiliser et nous rendre ce que nous devons être, des ‘Êtres Humains’. Un pigeon voyageur retrouvera toujours la direction et l’endroit où il est né. C’est un aimant qui nous relie à notre terre, indépendamment de notre raison, de notre religion ou de la couleur de notre passeport. Certains l’appellent attachement à la patrie. Quelle idée? Moi je l’appelle tout simplement l’amour. »

Comment:

Emile, ya khouya el'ghali, ya Aziz!!

Tes paroles me touchent au plus profond de mon âme...
En effet, Rien n'est plus cher et plus unique que la terre qui nous a vu naître, et qui nous a bercé et nourri de son amour tellement humble et généreux, mais si beau et si profond!
Je veux remercier en toi, l'´Ami et le Fils de cette belle terre natale commune, pour tous les sentiments que tu éveilles en nous, et qui reflètent ce côté inébranlable et indéniable, qui a fait de nous ce que nous sommes, aujourd'hui.

Encore Merci!
Amitiés tunisiennes


Monday, November 15, 2010

We Loved our School

The day WW2 reached us.


We Loved our School


Everyone, including primary and secondary teachers
Were present, dressed in their best Sunday suits,
As if it were an exam day.
They assembled us under the covered playground.
There was total and complete silence.
The music teacher came forward, as if for a rehearsal,
The expression on his face revealing a profound sadness.
He said in a sweet and low, barely audible voice,
"Children, let us sing the 'Marseillaise'."
I really felt he had a hard time keeping up with us,
It was difficult for him to hide his emotion.
Then the principal came over to us.
We were struck by the paleness of his face.
With slow movements and in a moving silence
His eyes ran from one end of the playground
To the other, photographing the scene in his mind
And making a final picture of all of us.
With obvious pain he uttered the following words:
"Children of France! Our country is at war.
The Germans have just landed.
The school must be closed."
He stood there motionless;
Unable to say anything else
He gestured with his hand for us to go home
But no one budged. We left the lines very slowly.
It was hard for us to understand the real meaning of the situation.
Never before had our school seemed so dear to us,
Suddenly we loved it as we had never loved it before.

Copyright 2010 Emile Tubiana

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Beautiful Child

Beautiful Child

Oh my sweet and pure one, filled with cheerfulness
Shine, twinkle like the summer sun
Show your greatness, your glory, your immenseness

Rise! break through the night and the fog!
Your existence is not mere chance
Among children, grown-ups and the elderly

You know neither space nor time
Where you are it's always spring
That's why I have been waiting for you ever since

Let us walk towards you, towards your light
From the bottom of our hearts like from a quarry
Our songs and our prayers resound

Here you are in the firmament
Oh you! beautiful child
As shiny as a diamond

You do not know melancholy, sadness,
Sorrow, fear, distress
Hatred, rancor or weakness...

You overcame my distrust
From my early childhood on
This is why I trust you

You discern our thoughts with astuteness
You enter those hearts which are ready
To live in love and peace

You act only your way
Without arrogance, pride or appearance
In the rhythm of your good pace

You know neither battle nor war
All men are brothers to you
In your life, that of your father

Copyright 1976 Emile Tubiana

L’étincelle

French Poem, for English version see "Beautiful Child"


L’étincelle

Tu ne connais ni intrigue, ni mensonge
Ni rancune, ni tort, ni vengeance
Devant toi disparaissent tous les songes
Tu es ma gloire, mon amour et ma chance

Tu es plus fine qu’une aiguille
Tes rayons n’ont pas de distance
Dans les ténèbres, tu brilles! Tu brilles
Te retrouver, te garder, oh! Quelle chance

Tu apparais comme un éclair
Sous le soleil, la pluie et le vent
Oh! Toi ma belle, oh! Toi ma chère
Tu ne connais ni or, ni argent

Te sentir nos corps frétillent
Dans les moments les plus graves
Tu apparais comme une fille
Pleine de charme et de suave

Merci! Merci! d’être venue
De loin je t’ai reconnue
Tu es toujours la bienvenue
Depuis longtemps tu m’as appartenu.

Copyright 1976 Emile Tubiana

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Necessity

As our house was damaged by the German bombs, we had to flee out of town and found shelter on a French farm.

Necessity

During WWII my dad used to bring us bread
To the farm, far from bombs over our head
Our town was under constant aerial attack
We had fled it by night, each carrying a sack
Everywhere the dead and wounded were lying
We had seen many friends and neighbors dying.
One day we were scared, we saw dad from afar
Walking with a bag full of bread and with a jar
I asked, “Dad, how did you walk the miles so fast?”
Tired, exhausted, from aerial and artillery blast
He answered, “My son, hunger and fear
Teach us to walk and to run for those dear.”
Since, I understood that necessity is our guide
As it teaches us which way to decide
The best decisions I made until now
Were those where necessity showed me how.

Copyright 2010 Emile Tubiana

Friday, November 5, 2010

Our Intellect

Our Intellect


Is it intellect, memory or feelings
That distinguish human beings?
It's the different opinions, some say,
Different languages come into play

In fact human beings are all related,
Some are more, some are less cultivated
But all we learn and acquire externally
Cannot replace our feelings internally

The intellect is a good tool,
But it should not make of us a fool
It is adapted to life on earth
And should be taken at its worth

If we let our intellect wander
The risk is, it will get us under
And make us lose our feeling
The link to the source of healing

We should control our intellect
And learn what we should select
Action, love and joy is our goal
To slowly awaken our sleepy soul

Our faith’s and our life’s source
Is a powerful, eternal resource
That within ourselves we can find
If the outer world didn’t make us blind

Into our inner self we must be diving deep
The connection with ourselves to keep
To find the ocean of love and joy
And let it its help within us deploy.

Copyright 2010 Emile Tubiana