rain in March
It was raining infernally... and us...
we're doing love at some mansards.
Through the windows of the sky, oval-shaped,
the clouds had been flowing in the March's.
The walls of the room were agitating
behind some sketches in chalk.
And our souls were dancing
into an unseen, out of a concrete world.
"The rain will pour on your wings", you said,
"And will rain with lump's ornaments
on the whole globe, and through the weather".
"Doesn't matter", I was telling you, "Lorelei,
it rains only on my flight, with the feather...that's all.
Then I rose up higher and higher without knowing
in which part of the world I left my room.
You've been calling me out from behind:
"Answer me, answer me... what's more beautiful...?
The people...? The rain...?"
It was raining infernally, a total madness of rain...
and us, we were doing love, at some mansards.
I'd have never wanted it to experience the end...
never... in that month of some March's rain
translation‧‧‧ ©ᵏᴼᵏᴼ ↭ un p'tit je ne sais quoi ‧ chic… à ma façon
