Our harts panic in love
Where hope is without recourse
Where the stream of suffering
It sinks in drowsiness.

Circumstances and horizons
Have altered our beautiful seasons
And buried in our souls the euphoria
Voluptuousness and harmony.

What a misfortune for both of us!
We are damned to a languorous
Lyricism withered by vicissitudes
Life, at any latitude.

Our life would have been a spring
From roses, flowers to prayer
And our hearts would have rejoiced
In the vehemence of the nights.

When our past evokes,
When our story provokes,
A warm tear obeys
Already in a state of disappointment.

Soothe, O my only Eve
Our pleasures in dreams!
Let us rejoice in our nocturnal desires
In the lost illusion, in misfortune.



Our hearts