Georges Moustaki - Loves end one day

Text: Georges Moustaki
Original Title: "Les amours finissent un jour"
Year: 1962

Loves end one day
Lovers only love for a time
What's the point of regretting you
My beautiful love of one summer
Here already comes Winter
Soon the sky will be covered
With big clouds heavier
Than our love sorrow

Loves end one day
Lovers only love for a time
What's the point of thinking to me
There are other men than me
To say the words you expect
To offer you new springs
To forget the past
To make it start over

Loves end one day
Lovers only love for a time
What's the point of tearing each others off
Why suffer or cry
Nothing new under the sun
Everything is so much
So much the same
It'd be better from now on
To forget how we loved one another

Loves end one day
Lovers only love for a time
But us both it was different
We could have loved one another
For a long time, for a long time, for a long time

We could have loved one another
For a long time, for a long time, for a long time
Forever...

Cora Vaucaire's version:

Dominique A - Poetry

Original Title: "La poésie"
Year: 2018

Poetry went away
I suspect her of having passed by your place
Of having lied down in your bed
And of having listened to the rain over the roof
She has so little to confide
Not the kind to pour out her feelings too much. A few words
She left over your desk
A few deletions with a fountain pen
Then she went away
Then she went away

It took us a few days
To be a bit less blind and deaf, and find
That the air was a bit less heavy
Our shoulders hunched up a bit more, and think
That after having announced
A thousand times reported departure, she had
Removed the coat from the hook
Where it was hanging for centuries
Then went away
Then went away

Are we lost children?
Forest stretched as far as the eyes could see for the evening
Refuses to abandon us
To let all power to the darkness
On our story gotten off to a bad start
Full moon has been summoned to thwart
The traps of a too dark night
In the area around a slaughterhouse
Without a poem to save us
Without a poem to save us

I don't know why I was thinking
That she couldn't have gone away, without passing
By your place and on your desk
I saw the deletions made with a fountain pen, a few words
Which slipped over my skin
On your face, and on your hands they took
The rythm of a heart on borrowed time
And their skin was weak as well
But one would have to hold onto it
But one would have to hold onto it