Les pieds dans la nuit

Night has fallen. Bodies struggle to cross an inky sea. A little further along the shore, other bodies pass one another, quarrel, and warm themselves. Between the moonbeams and the first light of dawn, “the children go, they dance, they lose themselves in the sky of veils and bites, in the sky of life,” Marie Pavlenko whispers to us. So many lives slipped between her poems, with their flesh, their pains, and their joys… In her writing, anger and indignation are never a form of resignation; quite the contrary: they are a living force, an impulse that carries us along and invites us to collectively reinvent our horizons. For writing is also a struggle against the powerlessness that slowly extinguishes us. “I am the one who burns with love for the living,” she finally tells us. A love that sets every page of this collection ablaze.