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How hard it is to be a freemason...

Venerable pulpit master, and all of you my dear brothers,

Like all of you, I realize tonight,

To the symbolic plateau of ordinary law,

The duty to honor the Word and its power.

Our order is thus made, which he gives in three degrees,

The true ability, to become a Master,

The zealous contemptuer of banality,

To always seek Perfection and Well-Being.

Dark forces of the Night, taking refuge in the Having,

Fear these initiates, of a hoped-for faith,

They're all there, motivated, eager for knowledge,

Persevering always towards more humility.

In this first degree, we are all equal...

Drawing from the ritual, the meaning so much sought after,

Necessary beauty, beyond words,

The strength to change us towards more Humanity.

We also learn, like the angels,

Not to chatter at the rhythm of our thoughts,

Never to trust illustrious aprons,

Always prefer rigor to praise.

The mason that we are, must become perfect.

Before being accepted among the companions.

He must work, to understand what is,

Assume his honor, get out of the whirlwind.

The demand is so strong, the mirage is so beautiful,

How easy it is sometimes, not to seem foolish,

To bend your back, to become a fallot,

To project two lives, one for the pen.

Incongruous speaker, rejecting manners,

Disturbing comfort, dear to the owners,

Refusing the mirage of these famous lares gods,

I'd like to remind you, we have to be a beacon!

For all those ambitious of a desired chair,

Complicated liaisons would have to be demonstrated,

From ritual to transference, from looks to thoughts,

Before you give it to them, you risk succumbing.

The false democracy should be stopped,

The confusion of ranks with insanity,

Pseudo states of mind, Auteuil-Neuilly-Passy,

And anything that looks like a comedy!

Aware of the perversions of gregariousness,

Will we dare, always, to be faithful to our duties,

Giving back to the masons, united in hope,

The true capacity for authenticity.

Like the fingers of a hand, without taboo or godfather,

By finally reconciling the ego and the multiple,

Tomorrow we will find the meaning of this journey,

Based on the logos, salvation of our fates?

And if it is difficult, to be able to reason,

In a dressing room inhabited by all his emotions,

We still need, however, in this initiation,

Come back into ourselves for more truth.

Let's stop moaning, and even if it's hard,

Forget the denials, just keep it pure,

Let's patiently build that unbreakable bond

This brotherhood, which alone makes us credible.

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For Saint-Jean d'Hiver

Venerable Chair Master, brothers and sisters gathered, Like everyone else after you, here I am for one night,

Well, when's the next one?!

We think about it first, So exciting! Sometimes it's just routine when the skates are on,


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