Today, May 25, 1992, the great massacre begins.
One by one I saw all my brothers fall in dignity with a big sound of suffering.
me, the biggest, greatest, I am not made the first attempt, despite the power of their big modern machines, at first, they just shook and the cable broke.
I stood proudly, amputee, my blood (sorry, my sap) mixed with sawdust heap at my feet, I ¼ hour respite, but they were right about me, and now my whole extended along (God I'm so big!) on this road I've protected the sun for more than 100 years, I think about everything I experienced.
Oh! I know my neighbors cursed myself for my leaves rot which closed their gutters and drains, and fall, envahissaint their gardens or lawns, but I also know that they admired me and liked to watch me shudder at the slightest breath My friend the wind.
Magpies that I shelter have much trouble and must seek another than I to build their nests up high if the year is not too windy, "said the former, or lower, if the wind blows hard on Palm Sunday.
course, I had trouble when some reckless or desperate some were to die at our feet, but it was not our fault why we accuse and condemn us to upgrade the road?
Early in my life when Napoleon III, then President of the Republic, we had planted on the roads linking the prefecture to major cities to house his prefects and dignitaries who traveled by carriage (Dame! The journey was long in time there), the road was made of stones that menders and prisoners broke its banks to fill in the ruts as and passages; have I seen beautiful women with long skirts and hats, as wide as dishes mushrooms that grow on your roof now, gentlemen in top hats black clothes and covered with fine white dust that projected the wheels of their crew.
One by one I saw all my brothers fall in dignity with a big sound of suffering.
me, the biggest, greatest, I am not made the first attempt, despite the power of their big modern machines, at first, they just shook and the cable broke.
I stood proudly, amputee, my blood (sorry, my sap) mixed with sawdust heap at my feet, I ¼ hour respite, but they were right about me, and now my whole extended along (God I'm so big!) on this road I've protected the sun for more than 100 years, I think about everything I experienced.
Oh! I know my neighbors cursed myself for my leaves rot which closed their gutters and drains, and fall, envahissaint their gardens or lawns, but I also know that they admired me and liked to watch me shudder at the slightest breath My friend the wind.
Magpies that I shelter have much trouble and must seek another than I to build their nests up high if the year is not too windy, "said the former, or lower, if the wind blows hard on Palm Sunday.
course, I had trouble when some reckless or desperate some were to die at our feet, but it was not our fault why we accuse and condemn us to upgrade the road?
Early in my life when Napoleon III, then President of the Republic, we had planted on the roads linking the prefecture to major cities to house his prefects and dignitaries who traveled by carriage (Dame! The journey was long in time there), the road was made of stones that menders and prisoners broke its banks to fill in the ruts as and passages; have I seen beautiful women with long skirts and hats, as wide as dishes mushrooms that grow on your roof now, gentlemen in top hats black clothes and covered with fine white dust that projected the wheels of their crew.
I saw men and women of the village walk to Dijon with their
Handcarts to sell their vegetables to market, or take the train at Neuilly;
I have seen for a long time farmers with their horses and carts.
I had five or six generations of children crossing the road near
me to go to school.
I knew the gig of the midwife, always pressed that. I witnessed the birth of aviation and I followed its development, but lately the mirages of the air base nearby shook me to my roots.
In the 20s, I saw the riders of the Tour de France, the hoses on the shoulders and in that time they had to repair alone, and punctures were common on the gravel road, French Rene Vietto proudly bore the yellow jersey, unfortunately it fell to the entry of Dijon and could not leave.
Handcarts to sell their vegetables to market, or take the train at Neuilly;
I have seen for a long time farmers with their horses and carts.
I had five or six generations of children crossing the road near
me to go to school.
I knew the gig of the midwife, always pressed that. I witnessed the birth of aviation and I followed its development, but lately the mirages of the air base nearby shook me to my roots.
In the 20s, I saw the riders of the Tour de France, the hoses on the shoulders and in that time they had to repair alone, and punctures were common on the gravel road, French Rene Vietto proudly bore the yellow jersey, unfortunately it fell to the entry of Dijon and could not leave.
I saw the panting and whistling of steam locomotives and the simple thrill of the TGV route. I heard the bells ringing so often: baptisms, communions, weddings, masses, funerals but alas, even three times a day when the deceased was the village, the Angelus at noon and 7:00 to call the workers fields, all my leaves have shivered in those summer days of August 1914 and September 1939 when they announced a general mobilization and declaration of war finally over happily to the Armistice in 1918 and release in 1944.
Dear millennium tower facing me, I wish you a long life, you're the one now dominate the village Crimolois.
I saw the high tops of my big floods of 1965 and 1967, often Ouche came out of bed to come and join the Oucherotte, where once stood the mills that gave their name to our common but I was not big enough to see them.
I saw the scroll Prussian spiked helmet, I heard echoing in my arms the rhythmic steps of the invaders, their tanks and motorcycles. I saw the workers take to the STO I Having spend resistant free or chained, and finally with a great shudder of relief I saw get our soldiers and our allies. I participated in the joy of all, I saw you dancing in the square.
Then life took over and came the motorcycles, cars becoming more and more and faster and I had barely time to see them go ...
your memory I, I was part of your life, your community, and now, what will become of me? furniture or firewood?
Me the largest, most majestic plane trees of the former National 5?
D. Voinet
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