2017.09.11.
The Ant
An ant of eighteen metres
With a hat on his head
That doesn’t exist, that doesn’t exist
An ant trailing a chariot*
Full of penguins and ducks
That doesn’t exist, that doesn’t exist
An an speaking French
Speaking Latin and Javanese
That doesn’t exist, that doesn’t exist
And why, why not?
2017.09.11.
It felt good (the lonely ball)
Versions: #2
It was just after the war
in a little ball that had seen better days,
on a miserable dance floor.
There were these two who danced
under the sky among rubble,
in this little ball that was called...
that was called... that was called...
No, I can't recall the name of the lonely ball,
but I do remember these two lovers
who saw nothing around them.
Their gestures were so
care free and full of emotion
that it does not matter
how the ball was called.
No, I can't recall the name of the lonely ball,
but I remember they were happy,
lost in each other's eyes,
and it felt good. It felt good.
They drank from the same glass,
eyes still locked together.
They prayed for the same thing,
being happy for ever and ever.
They smiled among the rubble
in this little ball that was called...
that was called... that was called...
No, I can't recall the name of the lonely ball,
but I do remember these two lovers
who saw nothing around them.
Their gestures were so
care free and full of emotion
that it does not matter
how the ball was called.
No, I can't recall the name of the lonely ball,
but I remember they were happy,
lost in each other's eyes,
and it felt good. It felt good.
And then when the accordion
stopped playing, they went away.
Night was falling upon the dancefloor,
the rubble and my very life.
It looked all forlorn again,
this little ball that was called...
that was called... that was called...
No, I can't recall the name of the lonely ball,
but I remember these two lovers
who saw nothing around them.
The street was so alight
with these two,
so what does it matter
how the ball was called?
No, I can't recall the name of the lonely ball,
but I do remember we were happy,
lost in each other's eyes,
and it felt good. It felt good.
Do whatever you want with my translations. I'm not rich enough to sue you anyway.
2017.09.11.
There is no everafter left
Now that you live
at the other end of Paris,
when you want a change of era
you indulge in a long trip,
you come and meet me
around the Dufour street corner,
you come and visit me
in Saint-Germain-des-Prés
There is no everafter left
in Saint-Germain-des-Prés,
no day after tomorrow, no more afternoon,
there is just today.
When I'll see you again
in Saint-Germain-des-Prés
it will no longer be you,
it will no longer be me:
the old days are gone.
You say 'How everything changes!'
The streets look strange to you,
even the flat whites
no longer taste the way you like them.
It is because you are a different woman
and I a a different man.
We are strangers
in Saint-Germain-des-Prés.
There is no everafter left
in Saint-Germain-des-Prés,
no day after tomorrow, no more afternoon,
there is just today.
When I'll see you again
in Saint-Germain-des-Prés
it will no longer be you,
it will no longer be me:
the old days are gone.
Living from hand to mouth,
the merest love story
would seem everlasting
in these back alleys.
But as night came
it was soon over.
This is the eternity
of Saint-Germain-des-Prés.
There is no everafter left
in Saint-Germain-des-Prés,
no day after tomorrow, no more afternoon,
there is just today.
When I'll see you again
in Saint-Germain-des-Prés
it will no longer be you,
it will no longer be me:
the old days are gone.
Do whatever you want with my translations. I'm not rich enough to sue you anyway.
2017.09.11.
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