A lighter lit in your small raised fist
Your gaze drowning in my faded eyes
A slightly suspicious keffieh thrown over your shoulders
My name in your mouth, my picture in your room

Your lips whispering these futile refrains
Which reopen wounds in your heart and mine
Your slightly sad smile, a tear as a gift
To the accordionist who makes my words cry

Fifteen years, barely sixteen
Keep your love for me
Keep yourself from hatred
Fifteen years, sixteen years, I love you
As I love the day
Little one, who rises

A small yellow hand on the lapel of the zomblou
A slightly rebellious side to express your disgust
Of this world too old, too dirty and too mean
Of these silent people, asleep and content

Fifteen years, barely sixteen
Keep your love for me
Keep yourself from hatred
Fifteen years, sixteen years, I love you
As I love the day
Little one, who rises

And then these tears forever in your skin
Like so many wounds and knife blows
Deep scars for Malik and Abdel
For our brothers who fall, for William and Michel

Fifteen years, barely sixteen
Keep your love for them
Keep yourself from hatred
Fifteen years, sixteen years, I love you
As I love the day
Little one, who rises

Fifteen years, barely sixteen
Keep your love for them
Keep yourself from hatred
Fifteen years, sixteen years, I love you
As I love the day
Little one, who rises

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