Original Title: "C'est si peu dire que je t'aime"
Text: Louis Aragon
Year: 1965
Like a torn cloth
We live together separated
In my arms I hold you absent.
And the wound meant to last
Is it required to feel it so deep
When the sky is limited to us?
It's an understatement to say that I love you
This existence is a farewell
And we both only have eyes
For the light turning down.
Put on seven league boots
While saying ourselves that there is no hurry
That's what it means to be old.
It's an understatement to say that I love you
It is as if never, ever
I had told you that I loved you
If I was worried to be surprised by
The night on my throat that lays
Her gloved fingers of sovereign
When never again it is the month of May
It's an understatement to say that I love you
When things are nothing more
than a remembrance of their thrill.
An echo of dead music.
The pain of the sound remains
which the more it fades out the stronger it becomes
It's not much, some words for the song.
It's an understatement to say that I love you
And I would only have said that I love you
All poems written by Louis Aragon
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