Okay, Madam Speaker.
Gaston Miron is an incredibly talented poet. He only wrote one book, a collection of poems called L'homme rapaillé. He was a great wordsmith of the French language. His poetry was about survival. He fought for the survival of our culture.
The blessèd my mother is our life of life
blessèd with a rip-roar proud heart
blessèd with the everlasting hand
blessèd with the poaching head in our mountains
blessèd of my grandfather in the black illiteracy
blessèd of my father gnawed sleepless
blessèd in my child-like eyes
The blisters of delirium the disarrayed colors
the muteness of animals in knots of wood
the snag of history for two centuries
and here I am
coming out from cracks of cellar windows
my shrouded face deserts its inert traits
I rear up in the call of a bony memory
I have a memory ache for I do not have memory
in the pallor of life and the moire of snow
I ramble on inside out I tremble in doorways
I frighten myself with my voice the stumps of my voice
Damn canuck of damn canuck of pea soup
holy blessèd water of blessèd blessing
holy blessèd water of blessèd ruined life
gorgeous girl of blessèd old buggy
That poem was written by Gaston Miron.
I treated myself tonight. In his day, Gaston Miron fought for the French language. Today, the Bloc Québécois and all those who love French in Quebec are also fighting for the survival of our language and our culture. It is a fundamental battle. The Official Languages Act makes no headway in this battle. It does not help us in this battle. It does not advance our quest to make this small corner of America a francophone land. We will work on it. We will do everything we can to improve it because for the sake of our children, we cannot lose this battle.