A poem for the 14th July (from French original)How sweet it seems, my beautiful Republic
Where many winds died down a long time ago,
When from our harsh suns to a hundred northern plains
Robespierre and Danton once enemies became friends.
How beautiful it seems, my France of folk tunes,
Which can dance to a thousand accordions,
While from our villages to the borders of Paris
A single people celebrates in good heart and with a single soul.
How strong it seems, my country by fireworks,
Where we celebrate the fall of the Bastille
To the rhythm of canons and destroyed ideas,
When each village acts as Versailles.
How I love to watch the exploded stars
In the low sky of Burgundy or in the mild of Olonne,
When children laugh at the moon astonished
By all the movement from Lille to my Gascony.
How I love the flag and my patriotic feeling,
When from the Champs-Elysées to our Cannebière
Mixed groups dancing make the countryside ring out,
And how the pastis, red wine and champagne flows.
Sabine Aussenac (Poète du Sud Ouest)