Orly : traduction de Français vers Anglais
They are more than two thousand
And I only see the two of them
The rain has welded them
It seems, to each other
They are more than two thousand
And I only see the two of them
And I know they are talking
He must be telling her "I love you!"
She must be telling him "I love you!"
I think they are in the process
Of not promising each other anything
These two are too skinny
To be dishonest
They are more than two thousand
And I only see the two of them
And suddenly, he cries
He cries his heart out
Surrounded as they are
By sweaty fat people
And hope eaters
Who point them out
But these two torn apart
Superb in their sorrow
Leave it to the dogs
The feat of judging them
Life doesn't give gifts
And damn it's sad
Orly, on Sunday
With or without Bécaud!
And now, they cry
I mean both of them
Just now it was him
When I said "he"
As embedded as they are
They no longer hear anything
But the other's sobs
And then
And then infinitely
Like two bodies praying
Infinitely, slowly
These two bodies separate
And in separating
These two bodies tear each other apart
And I swear they scream
And then, they take each other back
Become one again
Become the fire
And then, they tear each other apart again
They hold each other by the eyes
And then, backing away
Like the sea recedes
He consumes the farewell
He drools a few words
Waves a vague hand
And suddenly, he flees
Flees without looking back
And then, he disappears
Swallowed by the staircase
Life doesn't give gifts
And damn it's sad
Orly, on Sunday
With or without Bécaud!
And then, he disappears
Swallowed by the staircase
And she, she stays there
Heart in cross, mouth open
Without a cry, without a word
She knows her death
She just crossed it
Now she turns around
And turns around again
Her arms go down to the ground
That's it! She is a thousand years old
The door is closed
Here she is without light
She turns on herself
And she already knows
That she will always turn
She has lost men
But there, she loses love
Love told her so
Here is the useless again
She will live on projects
That will only wait
Here she is fragile again
Before being for sale
I'm here, I follow her
I dare not do anything for her
Let the crowd nibble
Like any fruit