The victims have faces

Our local newspaper is the Sud-Ouest, and it is a very fine journal. I get its headlines sent to me by email and I follow it on twitter, too.

One current thread of tweets is very heartrending. With the hashtag "The victims have faces" #lesvictimesontunvisage the newspaper is identifying those killed at the Bataclan. Of course, it was a heavy metal concert, so the dead are young people, and each photo tells of a life cut violently short.

Meanwhile one of the dead was a lecturer in Fine Art at Catrin's university. He taught in the same building where Catrin studies, though on a different floor.

Today is the third of three days of mourning, and yesterday at noon a minute's silence was observed across the Gironde before singing unaccompanied the Marseillaise.

I find it hard to love the Marseillaise as a tune or as a poem, but some of its words seem very apt just now:

Allons enfants de la Patrie,Arise, children of the Fatherland,
Le jour de gloire est arrivé !The day of glory has arrived!
Contre nous de la tyrannie,Against us tyranny's
L'étendard sanglant est levé, (bis)Bloody banner is raised,(repeat)
Entendez-vous dans les campagnesDo you hear, in the countryside,
Mugir ces féroces soldats ?The roar of those ferocious soldiers?
Ils viennent jusque dans vos brasThey're coming right into your arms
Égorger vos fils, vos compagnes !To cut the throats of your sons, your women!
Aux armes, citoyens,To arms, citizens,
Formez vos bataillons,Form your battalions,
Marchons, marchons !Let's march, let's march!
Qu'un sang impurLet an impure blood
Abreuve nos sillons ! (bis)Water our furrows! (Repeat)


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