With this sun, we wanted
Not to speak,
To drink in life
In small gulps.
Under the superb sky
Along the embankment, chewing a blade of grass
And skirt stuck up, she looked
With an air of triumph
This young beardless man
Or still almost a child
Who wanted her.
It would have taken almost nothing, perhaps,
A gesture from him,
A smile from her who said come on.
He would have taken almost nothing, perhaps,
For a bird to flee
With a sound of wings for everything to be well...
So that over the roof of the factory,
Along the gray walls,
So that over the neighboring road
And its gray cobblestones,
So that over all the hills,
So that above all the forests,
So that you ascend to heaven, without bells and without weddings,
A children's love
That would purify...
But they were already two hardened children
Who no longer believed in having to say things to each other
That the words of the grown-ups...
That life was already crushing without thanks,
Who no longer knew how to dream or laugh
Indifferent heart...
And this day again
Along the embankment
The poppies with cornflowers
In vain waited
A cruel hand
Who would pick them...

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