Original Title: "Je suis celui qui court"
I am the one who runs beside you when you glide in the grass
You feel him but do not see him, you flee, you hear him breathe
And the branches of the trees are the ears of the days
when water covers you with kisses
When you come in the earth, damp and hot, your tenderness
I'm the one who come with his hand to dry you
and you lower your head, his shoulder is a basket
I'm the one who knows you when you flee to the end of the world
And you always come back to his home, he doesn't know you're there
And you're behind the cupboard, you see him, you're in the shadow
And he breathes heavily he doesn't know you're there.
Now, do you know if he's here when you're hiding and watch out for him
He went outside and the door to the garden didn't creak
His body is bent over the table, he is sick with papers
He is sick with sun, he is under the south of the worlds
He is like dragging on the ground, the stem of summer broken.
The sap pours and he hears like a huge humming.
He is stained with wine among splinters of knocked over tables.
He is under his body and in the teared up tablecloth.
He is on his knees on the ground with all his fingers crushed.
And the lashes out of the sun made his belly burst.
Mad with pain he scratches, yells and there, run through,
He is like the wind in the marshes that is going to die
And who has blood trickles and who hides and who rocks itself
Who is searching for itself and ignoring itself and breaks up and knows itself.
Oh my love we are of those who can say they know one another
All things that find themselves and ignore themselves and know themselves
And noone would have grip on us, on our love, on anxiety
We are like air and wind, flesh to flesh bound
Who is never really its own body, always before, always maybe,
Both always together and never ever meet
In the water, our youth, smooth, on the surface places
a breath that is our love and we'll never talk.