For instance, I like the road,
its burnt green, perhaps when it's late,
darker spots with no dew,
with the prickly pears and thistles' thorns
For instance, I like seeing
the woman wearing black, eternally in mourn
on her doorstep, every evening
waiting for her husband coming back from the fields
But I don't know what I should do,
yes, I have to tell someone, but whom?
Should anyone ever understand,
it will certainly be another like me
For instance, I like stealing
ripe pears on the branches if I'm hungry,
but when I drink, I'm ready to pay
for water, which in that land is worth more than bread;
Walking with that farmer,
who perhaps happens to go the same way,
talking about grapes, talking about wine
which is still a luxury for him, and he's the one who makes it
But I don't know what I should do,
yes, I have to tell someone, but whom?
Should anyone ever understand,
it will certainly be another like me
For instance, I like, as a game,
kicking around a clod of dirt,
passing it to some children, who, around a fire,
sing, play games, play war
Then, I like discovering far away
the sea, if the sky is at dusk,
following the light of fishing lamps,
and once I'm at the beach, I like falling asleep
But I don't know what I should do,
yes, I have to tell someone, but whom?
Should anyone ever understand,
it will certainly be another like me