ERIC BRETON

LE SOLEIL ET LES AUTRES ÉTOILES

CANTATE

Text and music by Eric Breton

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Although the story is clearly inspired by the massacre of the monks of Tibhirine in 1996, the subject is treated without any specific references (time, place, religion). The discourse focuses on eternal oppositions: forced submission/consensual submission, love/hate, death and resurrection. But also on the meaning of the Sacred and the power of Faith that animates those who share the same ideal. 

The final words are those of the last verse of Dante Alighieri's Divine Comedy: ‘l'Amor che move il sol e l'altre stelle’ (the love that moves the sun and the other stars). 

 

Ante mare et terras et quod legit omnia cælum (Ovid : Métamorphoses)

 

Brothers!   Brothers? In this monastery, in the heart of silence, gathered together. 

Who are we? Men, simple men, awake in the night... 

What are we doing? The echo of our voices responds to that of our brothers. The fleeting wave of our songs glides in the wind, lost in space, piercing the ether and returning to us haloed with light. 

In the secrecy of places where the spirit blows, meditation, contemplation and prayer also contribute to the balance of the world. Who says so? Poets, madmen, sages and prophets! 

Who knows? The world knows, but it has forgotten, too busy with the vain struggles of the day. 

The old order no longer guarantees the continuity of the world. 

In these troubled times, what is said about us? According to some, we are useless, unproductive and derisory blemishes. We are even cowards, fleeing the century, fleeing its challenges. 

Others... Others call us strangers, want to drive us away, decree our presence impure! 

What shall we say? Where shall we go? What shall we do?

 

Rumours are but a breath of wind. They come from here and there, changing names as they change sides. Who can know the truth in these troubled times? I was looking forward to a new day where peace and friendship seemed promised to all. How could I have guessed that it would plunge us into anxiety? 

 

I walked into the evening, alert, as far as my eyes could see through the bright, late rays. And little by little, smoke came towards me, black as night. There was nowhere to shelter from it. It deprived me of my sight and fresh air. 

Who would believe that in this place anyone would want to quarrel? How can a sweet seed produce a bitter fruit? 

 

Cries, weeping in the distance! Who knows? Perhaps the wind? 

We can only love, pray, care. 

Perhaps the muffled groans of charred trees? 

So, what dark soul would disturb our task? A blind evil seems to lurk. 

What would they do to those who wish them harm...  

The earth trembles! If they condemn those who love them? 

The earth trembles, even the water holds back its course! 

What unknown motive would drive them to acts that all faith condemns? 

No one knows if there is danger, or if some mirage has set the sky ablaze? 

 

But all this is just distant rumour. What do we really know? 

Who told us? Come now, let us leave these disputes behind. They will not enter the enclosure of silence and prayer. 

 

The stars shone again, twinkling and distant. The river flowed gently towards the sea, carrying away the mists of the night. 

A timid glow twinkles within me like a star in the sky. Let providence guide each of us, who know no other song than that of sharing. I left, timid, pensive… 

 

Already the time was coming when the air was darkening. Sleep, which often knows the news before an event occurs, had troubled me so much that I wandered through the night. Can we still hear them? The sounds are already fading into the distance... 

No! They are still close, we can hear them clearly! 

 

Anxiety was in the air, others were crying so loudly that their voices echoed the crash of thunder. 

Cursed violence! I will dare! If I must! Why not? 

They are ours, after all. But sometimes the same tree produces fruit of varying quality, depending on the species. Blood begets blood, fury spreads like a hydra foaming with rage.  And why not? If I must! I will dare! 

 

But let the bitter, poisonous juice recede! Yet it seems close, much closer than yesterday. 

Cursed violence! Now it is your turn to walk the valley of pain. No star will come to light your sky, a sky of storm, lightning and thunder. 

 

Silence them! Silence those cries that tear through the thick air, the purple vapours, the sticky scent of blood.

 

If my hour has come, I will bring my murderers before the supreme court. We will see which of us emerges victorious. 

 

Fortunately, the expected storm is slower in coming. Seeing it approaching, we will know how to avoid it. It is time to resume our wanderings in the fine weather. The return will be all the more joyful. 
Leave, yes! Leave this refuge, if it is threatened. Let us see what we need! What luggage, what trunks to fill? Wine? Barely ripe fruit that will make the journey? Our people are thrifty and frugal!

 

Already, the fading shadows make us feel the sun setting, giving way to other shadows and drowning out our prayers. Our voices seem to be lost in the evening. Furious echoes pierce the soothing silence of our retreat.

 

You who are happy here, do you desire another place? Must we step aside? Retreat to another dwelling? Back down in the face of an obscene threat that seeks to destroy who we are through terror, we who call ourselves the knights of the impossible, the lovers of the absolute? 

 

Misfortune pursues me, terror precedes me and freezes me. Like the one who, out of breath, emerges from the sea onto the shore, turns back towards the perilous water and looks at the deadly wave she narrowly escaped, so I flee again, turning back to look at this place that left no one alive. 

 

They are like pigs in filth, displaying utter contempt. They are like rabid dogs, biting and tearing flesh, burning and slaughtering at the whim of absolute hatred that crushes their faces and hearts. They are all drunk with blood, feverish with a consuming passion for evil. Who can ever quench their thirst? 

 

Brothers! Let us not take our vows lightly. Let us be faithful! 

Faithful as the dawn that brings back the day. Faithful as the rain that waters the thirsty soil. Faithful as the wind that brings the ship back to port. 

Faithful as the stars in their immovable dwellings. 

Through the steadfastness of our commitment, let us avenge the offences committed against brotherhood! 

Is there any distress, is there any sorrow that it does not awaken with its clarity? 

We will pray for all the people of the earth. From west to east. From north to south. From east to west. We will remain, pray, love, hope...

 

We will walk slowly and deliberately along the short path of this life that is flying towards its end.

The hour has already come that brings nostalgia to the weary pilgrim.

But it fills the one whose faith never wavers. 

 

Alone in the depths of a hostile forest, off the beaten track, I walked. 

Blessed are those whom grace enlightens. Blessed are those who live in the light. 

Our life is prayer. Our prayer is testimony. Our testimony is Love. 

But now the gentle ringing of a distant bell revives a strange pain in me. 

If you want joy that surpasses your sorrow, sing with a firm voice, love with a 

heart filled with the salty wind of a vast ocean. 

 

Pain and joy mingle! A divine wind, over the capricious waves, guides the ardent traveller towards the stars. Towards the stars and towards the sky, which is pure light full of love, love of true good, full of joy. Shadow and light alternate! 

 

Through a vow made of our own free will, through fidelity, we go from servitude to freedom. 

Light that sparkles, like a ray of sunshine in pure water!

If necessary, we will die thus, without separation, forming one forever. Without end, without anguish, anonymous and glorious.

 

Light! Blessed are those who walk in the footsteps of the millennial Brotherhood. 

The day seems to have been added to the day, as if the Almighty had adorned the sky with a second sun. The glory of the One who moves all things permeates the universe. Everything is paradise in paradise.

 

No, the chain does not break, its links are pure metal. 

If one falls, another emerges from the shadows. 
No, the grain does not die, it rests in the earth, faithful. It waits for the dawn of a new day. It hopes for water from the sky, the warmth of light and the wind. It knows, it has always known. No, the chain does not break. No, the grain does not die.

For it is Love that moves the sun and the other stars. 

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 ©EricBreton2025