Original Title: "Paysage"
We won't go further together apparently
We love each others so well, though, and it is futile
This separtion; the water of the Loire as well
Divide itself, further, having left islands.
Sorry, with their weight of dead wood toward oblivion,
Like major arguments swollen with boredom.
The river with forms more subtle from memory
Joins and of a new appetite to drink itself.
We will find each other again, I believe.
For you the doubt was stronger and the pain for a while shook you
You were right, then you are wrong. I dread
Less the future than those few memories.
There is the valley after the swirls, the slow waters.
The river takes there the form of an open hand.
In the grass and what's left of the violent hours
That's it: the giving up, the stream, the path
Untied or like two bodies united in a bed,
The writing of a simple word. Everything gathers us.
Then again this crazy joy of being together.
I take again the herbarium of the dazzled smiles.
You do not believe in it, you say "Too late", you say "Never"
I will keep quiet, I am patient like the river
Yesterday, tomorow, for me everything moves alltogether
The hope is the water itself; I love you, I loved you.
I will love you, I love you. What do I have left?
Except this large passion donning the plain.
This stubborn song that goes up in your breath
To the erected wall of stilled time, throwing challenges.
Around the setting sun the perspective wings.
In the bottoms of the painting where glides the years.
The parallels far away in the infinite joins.
And for ever; we can't miss one another.