Je prendrai

Jacques Brel was a whirlwind
A hurricane of words, images, music, revolts, and humor
Sometimes this hurricane would calm down
And we’d get to experience
Moments of tenderness or sweet poetry
Now here’s a song
A lullaby he wrote for Isabelle, his third daughter
But first, I’d like to share a beautiful short poem
Called I’ll Take

I’ll take from the eyes of a friend
The warmest, most beautiful, and tender things
That you only see two or three times in a lifetime
And that’s what makes that friend our friend

I’d take a cloud from my youth
That floated round and white above my head often
And on days of weakness, it looked like my mother
And on days of anger, like a lion

A lovely, cozy, round, and comfortable cloud
I’ll take that clear and fragile stream of April
That disappears at the first chill
That vanishes all winter
And flows, they say, over the wedding table at Cana
I’ll take my best lamp, not the one that just lights up
No, the one that brightens and beautifies and calls from afar
I’ll take a bed, a big one, mine

And who knows what it’s like to be a man with his sorrow
A big bed of humanity
I’ll take all of that and then I’ll build
I’ll build and call out to the people passing by on the street
And I’ll show them my Christmas crib.