22.11.2013 [English translation]

I want to retell you

a story of love, a true one

of those which give all its meaning

to the verb "love".

The has pinned into there hearts

90 years of happiness

in the unbreakable confidence

of kindred spirits.

One could not breather without the other,

they were said that they looked alike.

All the sweet words that I give you

the gave to eachothet without ever saying sthen,

a simple glance would be enough.

That vey morning the sun was gentle,

I served them the tea without delat,

a ritual, an aranged meeting,

which I liked very much.

They left nothing to appear,

these lovers to disappear

whose first names I didn't know

except from the news.

They were both well dressed.

It was said that the looked alike.

When we pushed the door

after so many calls to which no-one replied

there two hads were joined together.

They were stretched out on the sheets

at the Lutetia1

so that they wouldn't be disturbed.

It was a promise not recognised in law

to die at the Lutetia.

They were stretched out on the streets

in the Lutetia

so that they wouldn't be disturbed.

It was a promise not recognised in law

to die at the Lutetia,

never, never without you.

Never, never without you.

Never, never without you.

Never, never without you.

Never without you.

Never, never without you.

Never, never without you.

Never, never without you.

Never without you.

1. A hotel in St Germain-des-Prés, about 800 metres south of the quai d'Orsay in Paris