Saving a seagull

This morning when I was walking my dog to a nearby public garden, I saw a lone seagull trotting along the narrow back street in front of me. He was nervously weaving through people who were hurrying to work. It was a little odd because he didn't fly away at all. I didn't think much of it and went away. On my way back home, however, I saw the same seagull. As I was looking, he walked into a little space between the garages, sat down facing the wall. I went near to see what was happening to him. An old Frenchman came up to me and said that he must have fallen from a nest on the roof of one of the apartment buildings, and that in any case he looked still too young to know how to fly. He pointed at a flock of other seagulls circling over us and said that they were perhaps watching over him. I was a little intrigued. I went back home, deposited my dog and returned to the same place with my camera. The seagull had a little blood on his beak. I wondered if it was from the fall from his nest. As I got closer with my camera, he stood up and began to trot away and eventually walked into a parking lot. Another Frenchman stopped by and began to ask me questions. I told him how I had found him and what the other Frenchman had told me. It turned out he was my neighbor. He then said the he would call the firefighters, that they would take it to a veterinarian. He actually took out his mobile phone, tapped some numbers and began to talk into the phone. It took him some time to persuade the firefighters. In the course of the phone conversation, he for some reason told them that he was a retired policeman. When he hang up the phone, he said to me that they would come in a few minutes, that we should wait here to direct them to the bird. I had never thought the firefighters would come to save the seagull. Because there are tens of thousands of seagulls in Nice and they are generally regarded as pests. But the firefighters - all three of them - did come with the siren blaring. As soon as they arrived, they began to curse us mildly for calling them out for a blasted seagull. Nonetheless, they executed the rescue mission rather efficiently as if it had been a routine: a gloved firefighter skillfully captured the bird and put it away into a little cage. They said to us that they were now going to the Promenade where they would simply release it whether it was able to fly or not. And they went away. The retired policeman who now looked quite satisfied shook my hand and went away, too.

Passings

Around this time each year the General Council of the Department of the Alpes-Maritimes organizes free concerts for its people. Last night we went to one of them which was held in a little village about a half-hour drive from Nice. The last time I had attended such a concert was two years ago. The same band had played in that concert. But there had still been Michel, accordionist and band leader, and Christian, singer. Then, Michel passed away last year at the age of 60 and Christian at 68 last month. Last night's concert, which had been originally programmed by Christian, became a sad occasion to pay homage to him. My wife knew both well, in particular, Michel, who played his accordion for my welcome party when I arrived in Nice. But I can't say I knew them as well as she.

I wonder if it's because of my age but it seems I hear, much more often than before, of deaths of people such as film stars, musicians, Japanese or non-Japanese, that were intimately connected with my youth. I think the others must have the same feeling as I have. There was an Japanese film actor who has died recently. I didn't think he was a good actor. I didn't like his voice which was too throaty. But he was an exceedingly handsome man with a tough yakuza glare. I remember having bought similar kinds of clothes that he wore in his films to try to look like him. How foolish I was! Then, a greater part of my youth was spent and lost like this. Now it's as if I had outlived it completely. I wonder what will come next...

N.F. 22

Graffiti and a stain on the wall in Vieux Nice

Thank you Life by Violeta Parra

Thank you Life, you have given me so much 
You gave me a pair of eyes
When I open them, I can perfectly distinguish black from white 
And see through the depth of the starry sky above  
And find in a crowd the one I love.
  
Thank you Life, you have given me so much
You gave me ears with widest reach
Day and night I can hear crickets, canaries, 
Hammers, turbines, barking
And the tender voice of my beloved.

Thank you Life, you have given me so much
You gave me sounds and the alphabet 
With them I form words and pronounce
"mother", "friend", "brother" and "light" which illuminates    
The way of the soul by which my beloved comes to me. 

Thank you Life, you have given me so much
You gave me my feet which have tirelessly carried me 
Through cities, puddles  
Beaches, deserts, mountains, plains 
And to his house, to his street, to his patio. 

Thank you Life, you have given me so much
You gave me a heart that races
When I look at great achievements of man
When I see good prevail over evil 
When I look into the depth of his bright eyes.

Thank you Life, you have given me so much
You made me laugh, you made me cry
So that I can distinguish happiness from suffering
Two materials that make up my song
And your song, too, which I now sing 
And everyone's song which I now sing.


(Gracias a la vida que me ha dado tanto.
Me dio dos luceros que, cuando los abro,
perfecto distingo lo negro del blanco,
y en el alto cielo su fondo estrellado
y en las multitudes el hombre que yo amo.

Gracias a la vida que me ha dado tanto.
Me ha dado el oído que, en todo su ancho,
graba noche y día grillos y canarios;
martillos, turbinas, ladridos, chubascos,
y la voz tan tierna de mi bien amado.

Gracias a la vida que me ha dado tanto.
Me ha dado el sonido y el abecedario,
con él las palabras que pienso y declaro:
madre, amigo, hermano, y luz alumbrando
la ruta del alma del que estoy amando.

Gracias a la vida que me ha dado tanto.
Me ha dado la marcha de mis pies cansados;
con ellos anduve ciudades y charcos,
playas y desiertos, montañas y llanos,
y la casa tuya, tu calle y tu patio.

Gracias a la vida que me ha dado tanto.
Me dio el corazón que agita su marco
cuando miro el fruto del cerebro humano;
cuando miro el bueno tan lejos del malo,
cuando miro el fondo de tus ojos claros.

Gracias a la vida que me ha dado tanto.
Me ha dado la risa y me ha dado el llanto.
Así yo distingo dicha de quebranto,
los dos materiales que forman mi canto,
y el canto de ustedes que es el mismo canto
y el canto de todos, que es mi propio canto.)

Mercedes Sosa

The North Ship by Philip Larkin

I saw three ships go sailing by,
Over the sea, the lifting sea,
And the wind rose in the morning sky,
And one was rigged for a long journey.

The first ship turned towards the west,
Over the sea, the running sea,
And by the wind was all possessed
And carried to a rich country.

The second ship turned towards the east,
Over the sea, the quaking sea,
And the wind hunted it like a beast
To anchor in captivity.

The third ship drove towards the north,
Over the sea, the darkening sea,
But no breath of wind came forth,
And the decks shone frostily.

The northern sky rose high and black
Over the proud unfruitful sea,
East and west the ships came back
Happily or unhappily:

But the third went wide and far
Into an unforgiving sea
Under a fire-spilling star,
And it was rigged for a long journey.

N.F. 21

N.F. 20