The bird sings on the trembling branch
In the distance, we hear the barking dog
And the child asks, are they talking to each other
What to say?

Eyes towards the sky, he asks again
What shape are the clouds in?
Who could possibly have hands so big
What to say?

Thank you for being here, pretty blonde head
Thank you for telling me who I was
Only at your height can one believe the world is perfect
The bird that follows you, the wind that listens to you
And whispers a secret to you
All this poetry that gets lost along the way
How? Why? Who knows?

By the side of the road, a flower bends
And the child asks "does it do that"
"To greet my pretty white dress?"
What to say?

How to reassure all these children of men?
Who sleep halfway, who dream and see
Under each curtain the feet of a ghost
What to say?

Thank you for being here, pretty blonde head
Thank you for telling me who I was
Only at your height can one believe the world is perfect
The bird that follows you, the wind that listens to you
And whispers a secret to you
All this poetry that gets lost along the way
How? Why? Who knows?

I have some ideas, I have some answers
That I must tell you later
But maybe they are all wrong
And you are the one who is right
Who knows?

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