Paris de Nuit…

 

Paris de Nuit

Trois allumettes une à une allumées dans la nuit
La première pour voir ton visage tout entier
La seconde pour voir tes yeux
La dernière pour voir ta bouche
Et l’obscuritè tout entière pour me rappeler tout cela
En te serrant dans mes bras.

Three matches lit one by one in the night
The first to see your face in its entirety
The second to see your eyes
The last to see your mouth
And the darkness all around to remind me of all of them
As I take you in my arms.
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Sunday

Dimanche

Entre les rangees d’arbres de l’avenue des Gobelins

Une statue de marbre me conduit par la main

Aujourd’ hui c’est dimanche les cinemas sont pleins

Les oiseaux dans les branches regardent les humains

Et la statue m’embrasse mais personne ne nous voit

Sauf un enfant aveugle qui nous montre du doigt.

(by Jacques Prevert)

 

Sunday

Among the tree lines of Gobelins Avenue

A statue is holding my hand guiding me

Today is Sunday cinemas are busy

The birds in the branches are observing the people

And the statue is kissing me though no one can see us

A blind child only is pointing at us with his finger.

Breakfast

 
 
 

“Are you leaving Luc?” the host of the party yelled.

 “Yes! Will call tomorrow!”, Luc yelled back as he was leaving the crowd behind him, and started running down the stairs.

 Marcelle took a deep breath, buttoned her coat, and looked at her watch. It was8 o’clock. “I should get some tea before I go home”, she whispered, as she was leaving her dark office behind her and started walking towards the bus station.

She was counting her steps ( …., nine, ten, eleven, …) when she felt his shadow.
“Hi, I am Luc. May I walk you home?”.
“My home is two miles from here. I am taking the bus”, said Marcelle with a quiet laugh. 
“I need a walk. Walk with me!”
And so they walked, for two miles and two years.

Maybe because they found each other on Christmas eve, their life together was like the eve of a holiday. An eve that never turned into a real holiday, since one morning, during breakfast in the sunroom her father built for her when she was a child, Marcelle started chasing her dreams into Luc’s silence.
 

(By  J. Prévert)

Déjeuner du matin
Il a mis le café
Dans la tasse
Il a mis le lait
Dans la tasse de café
Il a mis le sucre
Dans le café au lait
Avec la petite cuiller
Il a tourné
Il a bu le café au lait
Et il a reposé la tasse
Sans me parler
Il a allumé
Une cigarette
Il a fait des ronds
Avec la fumée
Il a mis les cendres
Dans le cendrier
Sans me parler
Sans me regarder
Il s’est levé
Il a mis
Son chapeau sur sa tête
Il a mis
Son manteau de pluie
Parce qu’il pleuvait
Et il est parti
Sous la pluie
Sans une parole
Sans me regarder
Et moi j’ai pris
Ma tête dans mes mains
 
Et j’ai ri.

___________

(Pardonnez-moi Monsieur J. Prévert)

____________

He poured the coffee
Into the cup
He put the milk
Into the cup of coffee
He put the sugar
Into the coffee with milk
With a small spoon
He stirred
He drank the coffee
And he put down the cup
Without speaking to me
He lighted
A cigarette
He made circles
With the smoke
He shook off the ash
Into the ashtray
Without speaking to me
Without looking at me
He got up
He put
A hat on his head
He put on
A raincoat
Because it was raining
And he left
In the rain
Without a word
Without looking at me
And I buried
My face in my hands

And I laughed.

 _________
As soon as Luc left, Marcelle went out to do her daily shopping. They never saw each other again.

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