Henry Scott-Holland – La mort n'est rien

Death is nothing at all.
It does not count.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Nothing has happened.
Everything remains exactly as it was.

I am I, and you are you,
and the old life that we lived so fondly together
is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.

Call me by the old familiar name.
Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.

Let my name be ever the household word
that it always was.
Let it be spoken without an effort,
without the ghost of a shadow upon it.

Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same that it ever was.
There is absolute and unbroken continuity.
What is this death but a negligible accident?

Why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval,
somewhere very near, just around the corner.

All is well.
Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost.
One brief moment and all will be as it was before.
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting
when we meet again!

	La mort n'est rien

	Henry Scott Holland (1847-1918), théologien, écrivain et chanoine britannique, prononce ces mots extraits de son sermon Death the King of Terror le 15 mai 1910 à la cathédrale Saint-Paul de Londres neuf jours après le décès du roi Édouard VII. (La traduction française de ce poème a commencé à être lue dans les années 90 lors des obsèques en France. Attribuée à tort à Charles Péguy, d’après un texte de Saint Augustin.)

	La mort n’est rien. Je suis simplement passé dans la pièce à côté. Je suis moi. Tu es toi. Ce que nous étions l’un pour l’autre, nous le sommes toujours. Donne-moi le nom que tu m’as toujours donné. Parle-moi comme tu l’as toujours fait. N’emploie pas de ton différent. Ne prends pas un air solennel ou triste. Continue à rire de ces petites choses qui nous amusaient tant. Prie, souris, pense à moi, prie pour moi. Que mon nom soit prononcé à la maison comme il l’a toujours été, sans emphase d’aucune sorte, sans trace d’ombre. La vie signifie tout ce qu’elle a toujours signifié. Elle est ce qu’elle a toujours été. Le fil n’est pas coupé. Pourquoi serais-je hors de ta pensée parce que je suis hors de ta vue ? Je t’attends, je ne suis pas loin, juste de l’autre côté du chemin. Tu vois, tout est bien.

	Death is Nothing at All (all is well)
	Henry Scott Holland

	Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same that it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner. All is well. Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost. One brief moment and all will be as it was before. How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!