Between Martigues and Marseille
Dipping in the waters of Africa
Fate has dictated that I sit
Close to the septic tank...(1)
Where I was born the sea reeked of gasoline
Under the oxydized sky and the sun blazing, dirty with lead
Falling as thick as straitjackets
Between Permanent Establishment buildings;
Where I was born sheet metal and plastic horizoned
Each piece of browned earth like the Arizona desert,
Only riff-raff like to hang around
In this gigantic sauna and
Where I was born it was never a good idea to venture out:
The cop lost his balls in front of the gangs(2)
Who would put a hole through you
If your face was too white...
Because where I was born is no longer France,
Our gothic splendors:
Those of rotting stone walls
Tagged with exotic swear words...
Yellow with blue eyes, all tanned
Planted in the wrong setting
Begging for my fair destiny
I had suddenly dreamed of the North
Of undeveloped and wooded tracts,
Of a welcoming permafrost
Across which will never again pass
The eternal aversion to ebony.
I had wanted to crack Phoebus
And shoot back all of his arrows
So that he would crash like an Airbus
Between Marseille and Marrakech
And you appeared to me as a mirror, a brother in hatred
Generous provider of twilight and ice,
Discordant horn of European resentment
Blowing mud on those who scorn my race
You Black Metal! Forged in garages at night
Like an artisan bombshell
Made half-dream half-rage,
You Black Metal! Emerging from the bowels of the earth
Like a huge anal probe
To blow up entire cities!
You Black Metal steel cutter of throats
Deadly national ram(3)
Making red roses bleed (4),
You Black Metal sudden, I borrowed the wings
From the immense northern raven
To tear myself far away, towards nobler castles!