Original title: "Aimer à perdre la raison"
Text: Aragon (1963)
Year: 1971
To love to the point of losing one's mind
To love to the point of not knowing what to say
To the point of having nothing but you as horizon
And only experience seasons
Through the pain of departure
To love to the point of losing one's mind
Ah it's always you that is being hurt
It's always your broken mirror
My poor happiness, my weakness
You who is being insulted, and is being neglected
Tormented in every flesh
To love to the point of losing one's mind
To love to the point of not knowing what to say
To the point of having nothing but you as horizon
And only experience seasons
Through the pain of departure
To love to the point of losing one's mind
Hunger, tiredness and cold
All the world's miseries
It's through my love that I believe in them
In them I carry my cross
And from their nights my night founds itself
To love to the point of losing one's mind
To love to the point of not knowing what to say
To the point of having nothing but you as horizon
And only experience seasons
Through the pain of departure
To love to the point of losing one's mind
All poems written by Louis Aragon
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