Tuesday, July 2, 2013

Barbara - The girl in love


Original Title: "L'amoureuse"
Year: 1968

The one who spread her arms out,
The one who loved so strongly,
But who didn't know,
That loving again and again
It burns you, it damns you

That one who, clear eyes,
walked arms spread wide
and who wanted to give everything
and take everything
That one went away
The heart, from love, bursted
The arms exhausted from spreading
and from waiting

Was she innocence, was she dementia
Who will ever know, who will ever know?

She played, as a child
already, at catching the wind
In her frail arms
But she retained nothing
The wind it comes, it goes
And it's unfaithful
She discovered the sea
The bitch gave her the green eye
In a dress of foam
She threw herself into it
Her blond hair tangling up
to the reflections of the moon

Then she wanted as well
To steal a piece of night
That she thought, dazzled,
about holding tight against her
But came back the heart in sorrow
Water, it glides from your hands
The night it goes and it comes
And it's unfaithful

Was she innocence, was she dementia,
Who will ever know, who will ever know?

We shouted "It's enough
to desire tearing yourself apart,
b by giving and taking
To want to give your blood,
by burning yourself so and so
You will turn to ash".
She did not answer anything,
She was hoping when suddenly,
We still remember,
As winter had arrived
A man appeared to her
Who was walking toward her

She opened him her arms
And the man warmed up to them
Caressed her so much
That she became beautiful from it
It has been, the night and the day,
the time for warm loves,
And the man remained always
He was faithful

Innocence or dementia
Who will ever know, who will ever know?

Then winter disappeared
The birds came back
He said "Listen,
I hear the trees creak
The forest has awokened
I am resuming my journey"
Then, she stretched her arm out
It was the last time
And her knife thrusted
Inside the unfaithful
Then calm, she lied down
That's how we found her
Dead in the daybreak
of loving too much from love

Was she innocence, was she dementia,
She is dead henceforth
Noone will ever know
She died at daybreak
Of loving too much from love...

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