Original Title: "Chanson tendre"
Text: Francis Carco
Year: 1935
At the memory of our twenties
By this fine morning of spring
I wanted to see again all over there
The inn surrounded by lilacs
We were hearing in the branches
The birds singing Sunday
And your chaste white dress
Seemed to be guiding my steps
Everything looked at its place
Even your name on the mirror
Right at the place where fades,
No matter what we do,
All traces.
And almost believed I was hearing
You tender voice whisper
“Come closer”
I was moved like in the past
In that inn in the deep of the woods
I had tears in the eyes
And I was finding that wonderful
For the whole day,
In your abandonned bedroom
After so many years
I saw us both again
But nothing was at his place
I remained, head lowered,
To pucker at myself in the mirror
Face to face
Grimacing...
Finally I pushed the door
What do I care
N.I. NI
It's over.
Yet when the evening came down
I went alone to sit down
On the worm-eaten woodbench
where you never came back
You looked to me more beautiful
More charming, more cruel
Than any of all those
For whom my heart has beaten
Everything looked at its place
Even your name on the mirror
Right at the place where fades,
No matter what we do,
Every trace.
Then with a poor laughter
I believed I read:
"After all,
We do not care"
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