Original Title: "Heureux celui qui meurt d'aimer"
Text: Louis Aragon
Year: 1967
Oh my garden of fresh water and shadow
My dance of being, my dark heart
My sky of the countless stars
My smallboat in the distance, sweet to row
Happy the one who becomes deaf
To the song if it's not about his love
Blind to the day after his day
His eyes on you alone closed
Happy the one who dies of loving
Happy the one who dies of loving
To love so strongly, his lips closed
That he does not need anything
But the memory of the roses
Forever perfumed of you.
The one who dies even with pain
To whom without you the world is delusion
And holds nothing else from it but your colors
It's sufficient for him that he named you.
Happy the one who dies of loving
Happy the one who dies of loving
My child, he says, my sweet soul
The time to know you, Oh woman
Eternity is nothing else but a swoon
To the fire of which I am consumed
He said, Oh woman and may he keep quiet
The name which resembles to the glowing embers,
To the mouth red, to the strawberry
Forever in his teeth formed.
Happy the one who dies of loving
Happy the one who dies of loving
He said: Oh woman, and comes to an end
So goes life, so does the dream
And be it on the Place de Grève
Or in the accustomed bed,
Young lovers you whose age it is,
Between the round and the journey,
Crazy ones sparing yourselves thinking yourselves wise
Shout to those who want to blame you
Happy the one who dies of loving
Happy the one who dies of loving
Another version:
all poems written by Louis Aragon
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