It's late. I'm looking for my other home, and I'm taking a path I don't know:
A small trail that runs along the factories and the city, cutting through the forest.
I'm just beginning to glimpse nature, when suddenly, night falls.
I'm plunged into a world of silence, yet I'm not afraid.
I fall asleep for a few minutes, at most, and when I wake up,
The sun is there and the forest shines with a brilliant light.

I recognize this forest. It's not an ordinary forest, it's a forest of memories.
My memories. This white and sonorous river, my adolescence.
These tall trees, the men I've loved. These birds flying in the distance, my departed father.
My memories are no longer memories.
They are there, alive, near me, they dance and embrace me, sing and smile at me.

I look at my hands. I caress my face, and I'm 20 years old.
And I love as I've never loved before.

CONSULTER LES PAROLES ORIGINALES