Un blog pour se remuer les neurones et se secouer les fesses !
Un blog pour encourager tous ceux qui n'ont pas envie de se laisser aller avec non-garantie de succès, ni pour eux, ni pour moi-même. ;-)

jeudi 28 février 2019

4.48 DE SARAH KANE, COMPAGNIE DES CORPS HURLANTS, THEATRE CLAVEL 2019.



Lire cet article en écoutant : Beethoven: String Quartet No.7 "Razumovsky No.1" / Juilliard String Quartet (1976 Movie) 3ème mouvement : 20.24
Moments forts : 24.28 ; 26.10

OU

La jeune fille et la mort de Schubert bien sûr !


Les clics incessants de la photographe officielle m'ont empêchée d'apprécier ce spectacle à sa juste valeur qui vous vous en doutez, étant donné le titre et l'auteure/autrice (suicidée à 28 ans), nécessite la plus grande attention, voire concentration, le texte étant traduit.
La comédienne a été particulièrement convaincante en livrant une performance É-POUS-TOU-FLANTE sur un remix d'Experience de Ludovico Einaudi (il fallait être à la hauteur de la charge émotionnelle de ce morceau) et un peu moins lorsqu'elle prononçait le mot "putain" (mot récurrent dans le texte original) comme si elle était obligée de le dire parce que c'est dans le texte, pas de façon naturelle. Son engagement personnel physique et émotionnel sur scène, sa sincérité dans son travail, sont en tout cas indéniable. Moi, simple spectatrice, j'en serais bien incapable. Brava !
Pour revenir sur le texte que j'étais venue découvrir ce soir, quelques passages m'ont vivement interpelée vivement et j'ai cherché aussitôt leur traduction. Je partage donc avec vous mes passages préférés (imaginez-les entrecoupés de "clic" et vous comprendrez ce que j'ai ressenti tout au long du spectacle). Enjoy et désolée pour la mise en page qui ne respecte pas toujours l'originale mais j'ai fait de mon mieux.

page 3
(A very long silence.) 
– But you have friends. 
(A long silence.) 
You have a lot of friends. What do you offer your friends to make them so supportive? 
(A long silence.) 
What do you offer your friends to make them so supportive?
 (A long silence.) 
What do you offer? (Silence.)
a consolidated consciousness resides in a darkened banqueting hall near the ceiling of a mind whose floor shifts as ten thousand cockroaches when a shaft of light enters as all thoughts unite in an instant of accord body no longer expellent as the cockroaches comprise a truth which no one ever utters
(Ce sont les premiers mots de la pièce).
Utter : prononcer, proférer, exprimer publiquement

page 4
I am sad 
I feel that the future is hopeless and that things cannot improve 
I am bored and dissatisfied with everything 
I am a complete failure as a person 
I am guilty, 
I am being punished 
I would like to kill myself 
I used to be able to cry but now I am beyond tears 
I have lost interest in other people 
I can't make decisions
 I can't eat 
I can't sleep
 I can't think 
I cannot overcome my loneliness, my fear, my disgust 
I am fat 
I cannot write 
I cannot love 
My brother is dying, my lover is dying, I am killing them both 
I am charging towards my death 
I am terrified of medication 
I cannot make love 
I cannot fuck 
I cannot be alone 
I cannot be with others 
My hips are too big 
I dislike my genitals 

page 5
At 4.48 when depression visits 
I shall hang myself 
to the sound of my lover's breathing 

I do not want to die 
I have become so depressed by the fact of my mortality that I have decided to commit suicide 
I do not want to live 
I am jealous of my sleeping lover and cover his induced unconsciousness 
When he wakes he will envy my sleepless night of thought and speech unslurred by medication 
I have resigned myself to death this year 
Some will call this self-indulgence 
(they are lucky not to know its truth) 
Some will know the simple fact of pain 
This is becoming my normality

page 6
And I am deadlocked by that smooth psychiatric voice of reason which tells me there is an objective reality in which my body and mind are one. But I am not here and never have been.
(...)
Watching me, judging me, smelling the crippling failure oozing from my skin, my desperation clawing and all-consuming panic drenching me as I gape in horror at the world and wonder why everyone is smiling and looking at me with secret knowledge of my aching shame. 
Shame shame shame. Drown in your fucking shame.
(...)
the only doctor who ever touched me voluntarily, who looked me in the eye, who laughed at my gallows humour spoken in the voice from the newly-dug grave, who took the piss when I shaved my head, who lied and said it was nice to see me. Who lied. And said it was nice to see me. I trusted you, I loved you, and it's not losing you that hurts me, but your bare-faced fucking falsehoods that masquerade as medical notes. 
Your truth, your lies, not mine. 
And while I was believing that you were different and that you maybe even felt the distress that sometimes flickered across your face and threatened to erupt, you were covering your arse too. Like every othoer stupid mortal cunt. 
To my mind that's betrayal. And my mind is the subject of these bewildered fragments. 
Nothing can extinguish my anger. 
And nothing can restore my faith. 
This is not a world in which I wish to live.

page 7-8
–Yes. It's fear that keeps me away from the train tracks. I just hope to God that death is the fucking end. I feel like I'm eighty years old. I'm tired of life and my mind wants to die. 
–That's a metaphor, not reality. 
–It's a simile. 
–That's not reality. 
–It's not a metaphor, it's a simile, but even if it were, the defining feature of a metaphor is that it's real. (A long silence.) 
–You are not eighty years old. 
(Silence.) 
Are you?
(...)
–No. I'm depressed. Depression is anger. It's what you did, who was there and who you're blaming. –And who are you blaming? 
–Myself
(...)
Body and soul can never be married 
I need to become who I already am and will bellow forever at this incongruity which has committed me to hell 

Insoluble hoping cannot uphold me

I will drown in dysphoria 
in the cold black pond of my self 
the pit of my immaterial mind 
How can I return to form now my formal thought has gone? 

Not a life that I could countenance. 

They will love me for that which destroys me 
the sword in my dreams 
the dust of my thoughts 
the sickness that breeds in the folds of my mind


page 9
Every compliment takes a piece of my soul 
An expressionist nag 
Stalling between two fools 
They know nothing 
– I have always walked free 

Last in a long line of literary kleptomaniacs 
(a time honoured tradition) 
Theft is the holy act 
On a twisted path to expression 
A glut of exclamation marks spells impending nervous breakdown 
Just a word on a page and there is the drama 
I write for the dead the unborn 

After 4.48 I shall not speak again

I have reached the end of his dreary and repugnant tale of a sense interned in an alien carcass and lumpen by the malignant spirit of the moral majority I have been dead for a long time Back to my roots I sing without hope on the boundary

RSVP ASAP

Sometimes I turn around and catch the smell of you and I cannot go on I cannot fucking go on without expressing this terrible so fucking awful physical aching fucking longing I have for you. And I cannot believe that I can feel this for you and you feel nothing. Do you feel nothing? 
(Silence.)

page 10
And I go out at six in the morning and start my search for you. If I've dreamt a message of a street or a pub or a station I go there. And I wait for you. 
(Silence.)
(...)
I've never in my life had a problem giving another person what they want. But no one's ever been able to do that for me. No one touches me, no one gets near me. But now you've touched me somewhere so fucking deep I can't believe and I can't be that for you. Because I can't find you.
(...)
Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you for rejecting me by never being there, fuck you for making me feel shit about myself, fuck you for bleeding the fucking love and life out of me, fuck my father for fucking up my life for good and fuck my mother for not leaving him, but most of all, fuck you God for making me love a person who does not exist, 
FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU.  

p 12
I dread the loss of her I've never touched
love keeps me a slave in a cage of tears 
I gnaw my tongue with which to her I can never speak
I miss a woman who was never born 
I kiss a woman across the years that say we shall never meet 

Everything passes 
Everything perishes 
Everything palls 

my thought walks away with a killing smile 
leaving discordant anxiety which roars in my soul 
No hope No hope No hope No hope No hope No hope No hope

p. 12-13
When I'm an old lady living ion (in ?) the street forgetting my name

p.3
My love, my love, why have you forsaken me?
She is the couching place where I never shall lie 
and there's no meaning to life in the light of my loss 

Built to be lonely to love the absent 
Find me 
Free me 
from this 
corrosive doubt 
futile despair 
horror in repose 
I can fill my space fill my time but nothing can fill this void in my heart 
The vital need for which I would die

Breakdown

(...)

–No ifs or buts. 
–I didn't say if or but, I said no. 
–Can't must never have-to always won't should shan't. 
The unnegotiables 
Not today. 
(Silence.)

p. 14
–It's not your fault, that's all I ever hear, it's not your fault, it's an illness, it's not your fault, I know it's not my fault. You've told me that so often I'm beginning to think it is my fault. 
–It's not your fault. 
–I KNOW. 
–But you allow it. 
(Silence.) 
Don't you? 
–There's not a drug on earth can make life meaningful
–You allow this state of desperate absurdity. 
(Silence.) 
You allow it. 
(Silence.) 
–I won't be able to think. 
I won't be able to work. 
–Nothing will interfere with your work like suicide. 
(Silence.) 
–I dreamt I went to the doctor's and she gave me eight minutes to live. I'd been sitting in the fucking waiting room half an hour. 
(A long silence.) 
Okay, let's do it, let's do the drugs, let's do the chemical lobotomy, let's shut down the higher functions of my brain and perhaps I'll be a bit more fucking capable of living. 
Let's do it.

p. 15-17

abstraction to the point of 

unpleasant 
unacceptable 
uninspiring 
impenetrable 

irrelevant 
irreverent 
irreligious 
unrepentant 

I don't imagine (clearly) that a single soul 
could 
would 
should 
or will 

and if they did 
I don't think 
(clearly) 
that another soul 
a soul like mine 
could 
would 
should 
or will

irrespective 

I know what I'm doing 
all too well 

No native speaker

irrational 
irreducible 
irredeemable 
unrecognisable 
derailed 
deranged 
deform 
free form 

obscure to the point of 

True Right Correct 
Anyone or anybody 
Each every all drowning in a sea of logic 
this monstrous state of palsy still ill 
Symptoms: Not eating, not sleeping, not speaking, no sex drive, in despair, wants to die. 

Diagnosis: Pathological grief. 

Sertraline, 50mg. Insomnia worsened, severe anxiety, anorexia, (weight loss 17kgs,) increase in suicidal thoughts, plans and intention. Discontinued following hospitalisation. 

Zolpiclone, 7.5mg. Slept. Discontinued following rash. Patient attempted to leave hospital against medical advice. Restrained by three male nurses twice her size. Patient threatening and uncooperative. Paranoid thoughts – believes hospital staff are attempting to poison her. 

Melleril, 50mg. Co-operative. 

Lofepramine, 70mg, increased to 140mg, then 210mg. Weight gain 12kgs. Short term memory loss. No other reaction.

Argument with junior doctor whom she accused of treachery after which she shaved her head and cut her arms with a razor blade. 

Patient discharged into the care of the community on arrival of acutely psychotic patient in emergency clinic in greater need of a hospital bed. 

Citalopram, 20mg. Morning tremors. No other reaction. 

Lofepramine and Citalopram discontinued after patient got pissed of with side affect and lack of obvious improvement. Discontinuation symptoms: Dizziness and confusion. Patient kept falling over, fainting and walking out in front of cars. Delusional ideas – believes consultant is the antichrist. 

Fluoxetine hydrochloride, trade name Prozac, 20mg, increased to 40mg. Insomnia, erratic appetite, (weight loss 14kgs,) severe anxiety, unable to reach orgasm, homicidal thoughts towards several doctors and drug manufacturers. Discontinued. 

Mood: Fucking angry 
Affect: Very angry. 

Thorazine, 100mg. Slept. Calmer. 

Venlafaxine, 75mg, increased to 150mg, then 225mg.  Dizziness, low blood pressure, headaches. No other reaction. Discontinued. 

Patient declined Seroxat. Hypochondria – cites spasmodic blinking and severe memory loss as evidence of tardive dyskinesia and tardive dementia. 

Refused all further treatment. 

100 aspirin and one bottle of Bulgarian Cabernet Sauvignon, 1986. Patient woke up in a pool of vomit and said 'Sleep with a dog and rise full of fleas.' Severe stomach pain. No other reaction. 

Hatch opens 
Stark light 

the television talks 
full of eyes 
the spirits of sight 

and now I am so afraid

page 18
Where do I start? 
Where do I stop? 
How do I start? 
(As I mean to go on)

How do I stop? 
How do I stop? 
How do I stop? 
How do I stop? 
How do I stop?
How do I stop? 
How do I stop? 
How do I stop? 

A tab of pain 
Stabbing my lungs
A tab of death
Squeezing my heart 

I'll die 
not yet 
but it's here 

Please... 
Money... 
Wife... 

Every act is a symbol 
the weight of which crushes me 

A dotted line on the throat 
CUT HERE 

DON'T LET THIS KILL ME 
THIS WILL KILL ME AND CRUSH ME AND 
SEND ME TO HELL  
I beg you to save me from this madness that eats me 
a sub-intentional death 

p. 19
I thought I should never speak again 
but now I know there is something blacker than desire 

perhaps it will save me 
perhaps it will kill me 

a dismal whistle that is the cry of heartbreak around the hellish bowl at the ceiling of my mind 

a blanket of roaches (roaches : cafards)

cease this war 

My legs are empty 
Nothing to say 
And there is the rhythm of madness

–I gassed the Jews, I killed the Kurds, I bombed the Arabs, I fucked small children while they begged for mercy, the killing fields are mine, everyone left the party because of me, I'll suck your fucking eyes out sent them to your mother in a box and when I die I'm going to be reincarnated as your child only fifty times worse and as mad as all fuck I'm going to make your life a living fucking hell I REFUSE I REFUSE I REFUSE LOOK AWAY FROM ME
 –It's all right. 
–LOOK AWAY FROM ME 
–It's all right. I'm here. 
–Look away from me 

p. 20
a scall on my skin, a seethe in my heart 
a blanket of roaches on which we dance 
this infernal state of siege 

All this shall come to pass 
all the words of my noisome breath
(...)
We are the abjects 
who depose our leaders 
and burn incense unto Baal (démon)

Come now, let us reason together 
Sanity is found in the mountain of the Lord's house on the
horizon of the soul that eternally recedes 
The head is sick, the heart's caul torn 
Thread the ground on which wisdom walks  
Embrace beautiful lies – the chronic insanity of the sane 

the wrenching begins

p21-22
–At 4.48 
when sanity visits 
for one hour and twelve minutes I am in my right mind.
When it has passed I shall be gone again,
a fragmented puppet, a grotesque fool. 
Now I am here I can see myself 
but when I am charmed by vile delusions of happiness, 
the foul magic of this engine of sorcery, 
I cannot touch my essential self.
(...)
Stop judging by appearances and make a right judgement. 

–It's all right. You will get better. 
 –Your disbelief cures nothing. 

Look away from me

Hatch opens 
Stark light 

A table two chairs and no windows 
 Here I am 
and there is my body 

dancing on glass

In accident time where there are no accidents 

You have no choice the choice comes after 
page 22-23

Cut out my tongue 
tear out my hair 
cut off my limbs 
 but leave me my love 
I would rather have lost my legs
 pulled out my teeth 
gouged out my eyes than lost my love 

flash flicker slash burn wring press dab slash 
flash flicker punch burn float flicker dab flicker 
punch flicker flash burn dab press wring press 
punch flicker float burn flash flicker burn 

it will never pass 

dab flicker punch slash wring slash punch slash 
float flicker flash punch wring press flash press
dab flicker wring burn flicker dab flash dab float 
burn press burn flicker burn flash 

Nothing's forever 
(but Nothing) 

slash wring punch burn flicker dab float dab 
flicker burn punch burn flash dab press dab 
wring flicker float slash burn slash punch slash 
press slash float slash flicker burn dab 

Victim. Perpetrator. Bystander. (bystander : témoin)

punch burn float flicker flash flicker burn slash 
wring press dab slash flash flicker dab flicker 
punch flicker flash burn dab press flicker wring 
press punch flash flicker burn flicker flash 

the morning brings defeat 

wring slash punch slash float flicker flash punch 
wring dab flicker punch slash press flash press 
dab flicker wring burn flicker dab flash dab float 
burn press burn flash flicker slash 

beautiful pain 
that says I exist 

flicker punch slash dab wring press burn slash 
press slash punch flicker flash press burn slash 
dab flicker float flash flicker dab press burn slash 
press slash punch flash flicker 

burn and a saner life tomorrow

p. 23-24

Sanity is found at the centre of convulsion, where madness is scorched form the bisected soul. 

I know myself. 

I see myself. 

My life is caught in a web of reason 
spun by a doctor to argument the sane. 

At 4.48 
I shall sleep
I came to you hoping to be healed. 
You are my doctor, my saviour, my omnipotent judge, my priest, my god, the surgeon of my soul. And I am your proselyte to sanity

p. 24-25 

to achieve goals and ambitions
to overcome obstacles and attain a high standard 
to increase self-regard by the successful exercise of talent 
to overcome opposition 
to have control and influence over others 
to defend myself 
to defend my psychological space
to vindicate the ego 
to receive attention 
to be seen and heard 
to excite, amaze, fascinate, shock, intrigue, amuse, entertain, or entice others 
to be free from social restrictions 
to resist coercion and constriction 
to be independent and act according 
to desire 
to defy convention to avoid pain 
to avoid shame to obliterate past humiliation by resumed action 
to maintain self-respect 
to repress fear 
to overcome weakness to belong 
to be accepted to draw close and enjoyably reciprocate with another 
to converse in a friendly manner, 
to tell stories, exchange sentiments, ideas, secrets 
to communicate, 
to converse to laugh and make jokes to win affection of desired Other 
to adhere and remain loyal to Other 
to enjoy sensuous experiences with cathected Other 
to feed, help, protect, comfort, console, support, nurse or heal 
to be fed, helped, protected, comforted, consoled, supported, nursed or healed 
to form mutually enjoyable, enduring, cooperating and reciprocating relationship with Other, with an equal 
to be forgiven 
to be loved 
to be free

p.25

–You've seen the worst of me.
–Yes. 
–I know nothing of you

p.26

–You don't need a friend you need a doctor. 
(A long silence.) 
–You are so wrong. 
(A very long silence.) 

–But you have friends. 
(A long silence.) 
You have a lot of friends. What do you offer your friends to make them so supportive? 
(A long silence.) 
What do you offer your friends to make them so supportive? 
(A long silence.) 
What do you offer? 
(Silence.)

p.27
You'll be all right. You're strong. I know you'll be okay because I like you and you can't like someone who doesn't like themself. The people I fear for are the ones I don't like because they hate themselves so much they won't let anyone else like them either. But I do like you. I'll miss you. And I know you'll be ok. 
Most of my clients want to kill me. When I walk out of here at the end of the day I need to go home to my lover and relax. I need to be with my friends and relax. I need my friends to be really together. (Silence.) 
I fucking hate this job and I need my friends to be sane

p.28
–I know. I'm angry because I understand, not because I don't.

p.29

Fattened up 
Shored up 
Shoved up 

my body decompensates 
my body flies apart

no way to reach out 
beyond the reaching out I've already done

(...)
I thought it was silent 
till it went silent 

how have you inspired this pain? 
I've never understood 
what it is I'm not supposed to feel 
like a bird on the wing in a swollen sky 
my mind is torn by lightning 
as it flies form the thunder behind 

Hatch opens 
Stark light 
and Nothing 
Nothing 
see Nothing 

What am I like? 
the child of negation 

out of one torture chamber into another 
a vile succession of errors without remission 
every step of the way I've fallen 

Despair propels me to suicide 
Anguish for which doctors can find no cure 
Nor care to understand

(...)
Sir John Everett Millais, Ophelia, 1851 -1852, Tate Britain, London, UK. J'aurais vu une baignoire ancienne sur scène, style demi-baignoire, posée sur un faux gazon en plastique et des plantes vertes mortes autour. Histoire d'égayer faussement la scène. Et pourquoi pas pousser le clin d’œil en lui faisant enfiler une robe violet pastel ? Ou juste une jupe longue de cette couleur puisqu'elle "dislike her genitals" ?
Mstill black water 
as deep as forever 
as cold as the sky 
as still as my heart 
when your voice is gone 
I shall freeze in hell of course 
I love you you saved my life 

I wish you hadn't 
I wish you hadn't 
I wish you'd left me alone

p.29
Hatch opens 
Stark light
the rupture begins 
I don't know where to look anymore 
Tired of crowd searching 
Telepathy 
and hope 

Watch the stars 
predict the past 
 and change the world with a silver eclipse 

the only thing that's permanent is destruction 
we're all going to disappear 
trying to leave a mark more permanent that myself 

I've not killed myself before so don't look for precedents
What came before was just the beginning 
a cyclical fear that's not the moon it's the earth 
A revolution 

Dear God, dear God, what shall I do?

p.30
All I know 
is snow 
and black despair 
Nowhere left to turn 
an ineffectual mortal spasm 
the only alternative to murder 

Please don't cut me up to find out how I died 
I'll tell you how I died 
One hundred Lofepramine, forty five Zopiclone, twenty five Temazepam, and twenty Melleril

Everything I had 

Swallowed 

Slit Hung 

It is done 

behold the Eunuch 

of castrated thought

skull 
unwound 

the capture 
the rapture 
the rupture 
of a soul 

a solo symphony 

warm darkness 
which soaks my eyes 

I know no sin

p.31-32

this is the sickness of becoming great 

the vital need for which I would die 

to be loved 

I'm dying for one who doesn't care 
I'm dying for one who doesn't know 

you're breaking me 

Speak 
Speak 
Speak 

ten yard ring of failure 
look away from me 

My final stand 

No one speaks 

Validate me 
Witness me 
See me 
Love me 

my final submission 
my final defeat 

the chicken's still dancing 
the chicken won't stop 

I think that you think of me the way 
I'd have you think of me 

the final period 
the final full stop 

look after your mum now 
look after your mum

p.33

Black snow falls 
in death you hold me 
never free 

I have no desire for death 
no suicide ever had 

watch me vanish 

watch me 
vanish 

watch me 

watch me 

watch

p35
It is myself I have never met, whose face is pasted on the underside of my mind 
(...)
please open the curtains

SITOGRAPHIE

LE TEXTE EN LIGNE EN PDF (Aucun héritier lésé : l'auteure s'est suicidée à 28 ans, sans enfant). I am so FUCKING grateful to the person who shares this text with the whole world : 

BAAL / BELZEBUB / BELZEBUTH
https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Belz%C3%A9buth

OPHELIA
 
*à propos des 80 ans qu'elle ressent :

LXXVI — Spleen « J’ai plus de souvenirs que si j’avais mille ans »
































Les Fleurs du mal - Baudelaire, 1857.


Ce chef-d’œuvre a inspiré des tas d'autres poèmes (objectivement moins intenses), dont celui-ci 
(...)

Il est de mornes jours, où las de se connaître
Le cœur, vieux de mille ans, s'assied sur son butin,
Où le plus cher passé semble un décor déteint,
Où s'agite un minable et vague cabotin.
Il est de mornes jours las du poids de connaître,
Et, ces jours-là, je vais courbé comme un ancêtre.

Il est des nuits de doute, où l'angoisse vous tord,
Où l'âme, au bout de la spirale descendue,
Pâle et sur l'infini terrible suspendue,
Sent le vent de l'abîme, et recule éperdue !
Il est des nuits de doute, où l'angoisse vous tord,
Et, ces nuits-là, je suis dans l'ombre comme un mort.
Albert Samain, Au jardin de l'infante (1893)




Semper eadem

" D'où vous vient, disiez-vous, cette tristesse étrange,
Montant comme la mer sur le roc noir et nu ? "
- Quand notre coeur a fait une fois sa vendange,
Vivre est un mal. C'est un secret de tous connu,

Une douleur très simple et non mystérieuse,
Et, comme votre joie, éclatante pour tous.
Cessez donc de chercher, ô belle curieuse !
Et, bien que votre voix soit douce, taisez-vous !

Taisez-vous, ignorante ! âme toujours ravie !
Bouche au rire enfantin ! Plus encor que la Vie,
La Mort nous tient souvent par des liens subtils.

Laissez, laissez mon coeur s'enivrer d'un mensonge,
Plonger dans vos beaux yeux comme dans un beau songe,
Et sommeiller longtemps à l'ombre de vos cils !

Charles Baudelaire, Les Fleurs du Mal, 1857.

Le morceau de Gabriel Faure est considéré comme une référence dans le monde musical selon mon collègue prof de musique, R. Lapeyre.


Après un rêve (After a Dream) - Gabriel Fauré lyrics ♪ Après un rêve (After a Dream) ♪
Dans un sommeil que charmait ton image
Je rêvais le bonheur, ardent mirage
Tes yeux étaint plus doux, ta voix pure et sonore,
Tu rayonnais comme un ciel éclairé par l'aurore;
Tu m'appelais et je quittais la terre
Pour m'enfuir avec toi vers la lumière,
Les cieux pour nous entr'ouvraient leurs nues
Splendeurs inconnues, lueurs divines entre vues
Hélas! Hélas, triste réveil des songes
Je t'appelle, ô nuit, rends moi tes mensonges,
Reviens, reviens radieuse, Reviens, ô nuit mystérieuse!


mercredi 20 février 2019

CLASSEMENT DE MES INFUSIONS (INDUS) PREFEREES

Ce classement est en cours donc si vous n'y trouvez rien, c'est normal : je le construis de façon paresseuse.
Mon objectif personnel est d'équilibrer ma consommation en café (le matin), thé (l'après-midi) et infusions (le soir), de préférence en vrac. Il y aura donc deux autres classements.

1) Infusion bio Gingembre Orange Vanille, Yogi Tea.
Avis : une des RARES tisanes dont je ne me lasse pas. Pas de chance : elle n'a pas de nom spirituel et n'a pas l'étiquette "great taste". Dieu sait que j'ai acheté des tas d'infusions Yogi Tea que j'ai eu du mal à finir malgré leur nom ou l'étiquette "super goût". Il n'empêche que ma préférée jusqu'à présent, c'est bien celle-ci. Prix : 3,50 les 17 sachets (soit environ 20 centimes le sachet).


2) Organic Cinnamon and Cardamom, Celestial Seasonings.

Avis : j'ai mis deux sachets sans faire exprès d'un coup et ce fut...le Paradis sur terre. Mais à plus de 5€ les 20 sachets (environ 25 centimes/le sachet), on se calme. Je suis une raide dingue de cardamome : j'en mettrais partout. Je suis même surprise de ne pas l'apprécier dans le café égyptien. Pourquoi je ne la mets pas en premier ? Parce que je l'aime tellement, que j'ai peur d'en abuser et de m'en lasser plus vite. Je confirme que mettre un seul sachet, c'est bon aussi mais forcément, ce n'est pas aussi intense.


3) INFUSION MAISON ANTI-TOUX et ANTI-TOUT : THYM BIO + MIELLAT + CITRON NON TRAITE + GINGEMBRE FRAIS.
Ne jamais oublier que la meilleure infusion pour la santé, c'est celle qui est faite maison donc toujours avoir du thym bio à la maison en vrac et du miel ou du miellat. Il ne reste plus qu'à aller acheter un citron et un rhizome de gingembre frais (une infusion juste au gingembre frais, c'est délicieux aussi : c'est une amie turque, Hilal, qui me l'a fait découvrir).
L'infusion au thym est puissante et amère mais le miel sucré contrebalance cette amertume.
Privilégier le miel à l'eucalyptus, l'oranger ou au sarrasin ou encore mieux : du miellat de sapin ou de chêne. Ce n'est pas du miel de nectar de fleurs, il s'agit de sécrétions de pucerons déposées sur les arbres, récupérées par les abeilles ensuite. Je ne trouve pas ça très bon car beaucoup plus fort que le miel mais avec du jus de citron, ça passe sans problème. 8€ chez Kelbongoo, le miellat de sapin.


Je déconseille certaines infusions car elles ne sont pas bonnes du tout :

- Les tisanes Lebensbaum.

Le packaging est génial (trop beau, le plus beau), les noms des tisanes sont génialement bien trouvés (Carotte et Karma ; Tilleul et Feu de Camp ; Forêt et Herbes ; Mélisse et Maison ; Montagne et Fraîcheur ; Argousier et Mer ) MAIS les tisanes n'ont AUCUN goût !!! Les ingrédients ont l'air pourtant très bien choisis. Ma théorie ? Ils sont en trop petites quantités et/ou ne sont pas d'assez bonne qualité.
J'ai acheté un assortiment de 20 infusions et à chaque fois que j'en goûte une nouvelle (avec enthousiasme), c'est une nouvelle déception et n'ai fait que boire de l'EAU CHAUDE. Je finirai le paquet donc s'il y en a une seule qui sent quelque chose, qui a du goût, je vous ferai signe.
Marketing/Packaging : 10/10 Goût : 0/10,
https://www.lebensbaum.com/fr/produits/the/globe-trotteur


Mes goûts perso : je n'aime plus les tisanes au chocolat, je ne trouve plus ça bon et j'en ai vraiment marre de voir de la menthe en excès partout dans les tisanes industrielles : autant en cultiver soi-même sur son balcon dans ce cas-là !