Pour illustrer mon article sur les "Petits pains pour hamburgers maison", je cherchais bien sûr un texte américain et celui qui s'est imposé à moi est  le texte si unique, saccadé et brûlant de Jack Kerouac, "Sur la route". Il me semblait trahir son souffle que de le mettre en français, alors, pour une fois sur mon blog, je vous le partage en anglais!

(Illustration: Photographie de Charles Clyde Ebbets... qui me donne toujours le vertige chaque fois que je la regarde!!)

So in America when the sun goes down and I sit on the old broken-down river pier watching the long, long skies over New Jersey and sense all that raw land that rolls in one unbelievable huge bulge over to the West Coast, and all that road going, and all the people dreaming in the immensity of it, and in Iowa I know by now the children must be crying in the land where they let the children cry, and tonight the stars'll be out, and don't you know that God is Pooh Bear? the evening star must be drooping and shedding her sparkler dims on the prairie, which is just before the coming of complete night that blesses the earth, darkens all the rivers, cups the peaks and folds the final shore in, and nobody, nobody knows what's going to happen to anybody besides the forlorn rags of growing old, I think of Dean Moriarty, I even think of Old Dean Moriarty the father we never found, I think of Dean Moriarty.”

Jack Kerouac, On the road