In the beginning there were three brothers, carrying the shadow of the Ardennes and the weight of footsteps under the sign of ou, engraved with a great capital U, where the family myth gently takes shape.
Here is the first brother, whose name is written thus: OuUPo — capital O, lowercase u, capital U, lowercase p and o — and he is none other than myself.
The second was called Ouuuuh! a fleeting silhouette and passing murmur, while the third did not belong to this ordinary world, bearing the muted fragments of another grammar between Uncle Paul’s silences and the secrets of railway stations, where memory writes and prepares itself.
He was the best of us. When I think of him, I am often moved. Struck down by a car, he departed in modesty and silence on 31 December 1979, closing the book of childhood for ever, while adolescence awoke on 1 January 1980 at midnight and one second. When I think of him, his name is written in larger, and perhaps clumsier, characters than either of ours.
Here is the trilogy with musical accents, their names rising like a magical rhythm: OuUpo, Ouuuuh and Ouh Popopopopopo, affectionately shortened to the tender Ouhpopopo.
It is the ghost of a little girl with distant eyes, of an adoption broken at the margins of the roads, where the trials of the world and the shadows closed the door of a luminous home.
Then poetry gathers the noises of the street, bursts of voices and the language that intervened, like a final seal that keeps watch and ends there: sông sông sản xung chị chị ạ.
Φαεσφόρος
Ἐν ἀρχῇ τρεῖς ἦσαν ἀδελφοὶ, οἳ φόβον Ἄρδνης καὶ βάρος εἶχον ἴχνος ὑπὸ σήματι τοῦ μεγάλου «Οὐ», ἔνθα τό γε πατρῷον μυθοῦ ἀρθροῦται ἠρέμα.
Ἴδε τὸν πρῶτον, οὗ τοὔνομα γράφεται ὧδε· Οὐ-Ὕ-Πο, μέγα, μικρόν, μέγα, σὺν τῷ πῇ καὶ μικρῷ ὁ· οὐκ ἄλλος τις ἀλλ᾽ ἢ ἐγὼ αὐτός.
Ὁ δὲ δεύτερος Ὄουου ! ἐκαλεῖτο, σκιά τις φεύγουσα καὶ μολπὴ παρατρέχουσα, ἐν ᾧ ὁ τρίτος οὐκ ἦν τοῦδε τοῦ κοινοῦ κόσμου, φέρων τὰ κωφὰ λείψανα ἄλλης γραμματικῆς, μεταξὺ τῶν τοῦ θείου Παύλου σιωπῶν καὶ τῶν ἐν σταθμοῖς ἀπορρήτων, ἔνθα ἡ μνήμη γράφεται τε καὶ τρέφεται.
Ἦν γὰρ ὁ ἄριστος ἡμῶν, καί μοι, ὅταν αὐτὸν ἐνθυμῶμαι, πολλὰς γίγνεται ἡ ψυχὴ κίνησις· διεφθάρη γὰρ ὑπὸ ἀπήνης πληγείς, ἐν αἰδοῖ καὶ σιωπῇ, τῇ ἐσχάτῃ τοῦ Δεκεμβρίου μηνὸς ἡμέρᾳ, ἐν ἔτει χιλιοστῷ ἐνακοσιοστῷ ἑβδομηκοστῷ ἐνάτῳ, τῆς παιδικῆς ἡλικίας τὸ βιβλίον ἀείποτε κλείσας, ἐν ᾧ ἡ ἡβητικὴ ἡλικία ἀνέθορεν τῇ πρώτῃ τοῦ Ἰανουαρίου μηνὸς, ἔτει ὀγδοηκοστῷ, μεσούσης νυκτὸς καὶ δευτέρῳ μορίου χρόνου· καὶ ὅταν αὐτὸν μνημονεύω, τὰ γράμματα μείζονα γίγνεται, ἴσως δὲ καὶ ἀτεχνέστερα τῶν ἡμετέρων.
Ἴδε τὴν τριλογίαν τῇ μουσικῇ συναρμοσμένην, τῶν ὀνομάτων ἀναθρόων ὥσπερ ἀοιδὴ θέλγουσ’· Οὐούπο, Ὄουου, καὶ Οὐ-Ποποποποποπο, ἣν ἡ φιλοφροσύνη συντέμνει εἰς τὸ τερπνὸν Οὐπουποπο.
Εἴδωλόν ἐστι παιδίου τινὸς μικροῦ, ὄμμασι τηλοῦ ἀποδερκομένου, ἀφῃρημένης υἱοθεσίας ἐπ᾽ ἄκρων τῶν ὁδῶν, ἔνθα αἱ τοῦ κόσμου βάσανοι καὶ αἱ σκιαὶ κλῇθρον ἔθεντο φωτεινῆς ἑστίας.
Καὶ τότε ἡ ποίησις ἀγείρει τὰ τῆς ὁδῶν ἠχήματα, σφραγὶς ἐσχάτη ἣ τηρεῖ ἄνωθεν, Sông sông sản xung chị chị ạ.
Correspondence
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