No, I haven't
spent my life lining up rhymes and staring at the stars
(1).
Furthermore,
when one dies with his cause, one is resuscitated on the third day
.
And since the present cannot be resolved to learn the lessons of the past - when it knows it -, on this December 3, 2021, I delegate my ghost, coming back enraged, because
I am like a volcano that has no mouth,
passing my death turning over in my grave like meat on a spit.
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"He was neither on the right nor on the left", Lamartine, a poet candidate for the presidency of the Republic
During my lifetime, I took a vow of silence after my ebb in political life when, 170 years ago, history was written at sword point: after the revolution of 1848 and the first election presidential, by universal suffrage on my proposal, a so-called new world has finally arrogated to power with naughty manners.
At home in Burgundy, the day after December 2, 1851, Marianne and I had just learned of the events in Paris: Napoleon's nephew, against whom I had warned, had accomplished his coup the day before.
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