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Expressions poétiques

Photo de Nadine Williams

Par

Nadine Williams

Le patrimoine immatériel

Published Date: 08 sept. 2017

Je raconte de vive voix et sous forme écrite, la plupart du temps à travers la poésie, ou encore sous une forme offerte par les arts visuels. L’inspiration s’est manifestée quand j’ai découvert l’écriture comme approche thérapeutique pour surmonter de grandes difficultés. L’accueil reçu après le partage a eu un effet catalyseur.

L’impact de la mise en récit sur ma culture et ma communauté est multiple – de la transmission de traditions orales à l’accueil d’immigrants et à la révélation de leurs racines, de l’inspiration d’aspirants artistes à la sensibilisation à la dimension culturelle auprès d’un auditoire étranger, en passant par l’introspection, afin de prendre la parole pour d’autres qui, pour diverses raisons, sont sans voix. La parole nous habilite et pousse autrui à l’audace, à trouver son mode d’expression créative, et elle donne des lettres de noblesse, de la respectabilité à l’art d’écrire et de raconter.

Longtemps après ma retraite et mon retrait du monde, mon oeuvre me prolongera et touchera des publics à l’échelle internationale.

The Immigrant Child
par Nadine Williams

I am the immigrant child

Born and bred on the fingers of bananas

backs of chickens heads of goats livers tripes and kidneys of cows

The immigrant child whose forefathers hoarded their monies to

ensure that on September mornings there would be no bawling

Since I like the rest could stand with the best big up my chest

and proudly tell the teachers good morning

Yes I am the immigrant child whose very large family

shared two bedrooms and one verandah

Who fumbled with bottled torches at nights to find the toilets

And though I may reside in four and five bedroom houses

with en-suites attached

There was a time when I had roofs that were thatched and patched

to keep the waters at bay

Hey hear me when I say

I am the immigrant child who has embarked upon a land of promise

A land foretold many years ago

A land where milk and honey flows

The immigrant child whose migration and subsequent integration has

made me a proud Canadian

Entitled to all that the shores of Nova Scotia Manitoba British

Columbia Newfoundland and Labrador has in store

As much sap as my tongue can lap from the barks of the maple trees

while mastering as many degrees as my tuition fees deems feasible

The immigrant child whose rich heritage oozes from my pores as I try

to ensure that the doors of these great memories are open wide to

impart a sense of humility and pride

While being a guide to this generation and the generations after that

I am the immigrant child

Born and bred on the fingers of bananas backs of chickens heads of

goats livers tripes and kidneys of cows

And I am the immigrant child who will die humbly holding dear

The heart of the breadfruit.