Sad I am, my Friend
Sad I am, my dear Friend, today.
There is something wrong with this world. There is something wrong in my life. Everything around me makes me sad. The order of the world in which we live, disturbed by violent storms, saddens me. The very order of my life, an endless turbulent storm, saddens me.
You ask me why I’m so hard at work… You ask me if I’m going to work even today.
Work is what I inherited from my parents and my parents’ parents. Work is the thing that gives meaning to my life. Work, like love, is a woman’s reason for being, it’s her solid ground, her talisman of well-being, of her need for certainty, it’s her share of truth.
And yet today I am so sad! The sadness of this world saddens me. The sadness of this country, which is as sad as the sadness of my homeland, saddens me.
This spring that chains me far from my land saddens me.
Today the weather is nice, the sun has risen from the claws of the clouds, I should be happy, but I’m not.
I miss the taste of nettles in my garden, my Friend. There, in the courtyard of my parents’ house, spring tasted like nettles with garlic and polenta. I miss my country, my friend. I miss my garden, abandoned half a century ago. I miss my land that I haven’t plowed for a long time…
No, I’m not going to work today, my Friend. Today, I will retire to my temple so that the oracle of Delphi will tell me: where did I go wrong?
Paris, April 2, 2022