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2018.07.08.

Sleepless Lili

Planes flew past, we came down to earth
with the same bang as the bombs of this winter-like August1.
Paper little sister, strewn porcelain,
lying in the dust beneath rubble.
Crumpled, gone, my rag little sister.
There is no such thing as a doll cemetery.
 
Where are you
lost, sleepless Lili?
Where are you?
Lili, I can't sleep either.
 
Though countless smiles had deserted me,
I still retained my innocence amidst the graves.
Among ruins, my little sister in suffering,
amidst shadows I lost childhood.
 
Where are you
lost, sleepless Lili?
Where are you?
Lili, I'm not sleepy either.
 
Where are you,
Lili, my paradise lost?
Where are you
lost, sleepless Lili?
Where are you,
Lili, so thin a rag doll.
Where are you?
Come back, Lili, would you please?
I'm not sleepy.
Where are you
lost, sleepless Lili?
 
  • 1. A good number of French urban areas were reduced to rubble by Allied planes in the fighting that followed the Normandy landings, hence the painful surprise of these French young girls expecting Liberation and being bombed instead.
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2018.07.08.

Along with the swallows

Your strawberry basket and your dotted dress
and your angel face.
This strange language I don't understand.
My eyes are eating you.

 
Your outfit like a giant's, like a hero in training
Your chewing gum1 dancing between your youthful2 jaws
All these promises written on your skin
as my dress slides down and I turn myself into a gift.
 
Wait for me.
I'll be done with the war this spring
We'll meet again.

 
Take me far away across sea,
over there, to the West.
 
Wait for me.
Along with the swallow, no later, I'll be there.

 
Take me to the top of the skyscrapers,
to the mirror I pretend to believe3 just for you
 
Keep my cigarets and my harmonica.
From now on I will play it only for you.
Show me your smile, yous sign of the cross,
this is what I will carry away with me.

 
Take this medal, it belonged to my mother.
It will protect you in these fields of misery.
Take this last kiss and remember it
in these days of anger, that's all you'll have left.
 
Wait for me.
I'll be done with the war this spring
We'll meet again.

 
Take me far away across sea,
over there, to the West.
 
Wait for me.
Along with the swallow, no later, I'll be there.

 
Take me to the top of the skyscrapers,
to the mirror I pretend to believe just for you
 
  • 1. This American marvel was brought to Europe by the GIs
  • 2. lit. '(brand) new'
  • 3. That's rather an anachronism. In 1944 America was a land of freedom and plenty for most French people, who had to endure four years of dictatorship and miserable living standards under German occupation. Disenchantment about the 'lying mirror' of the American Dream would come much later.
This translation does not claim to be of any particular value.
Glad if you liked it, sorry if you didn't.
You can reuse it as you please.
Glad if it's for knowledge or understanding, sorry if it's just for money or fame.