Remember, Barbara,
it rained ceaaselessly on Brest that day
and you walked, smiling,
flowing, delighted, blossoming
in the rain.
Remember, Barbara,
it rained incessantly on Brest that day
and we saw each other in Siam Street,
you were smiling,
and likewise I was smiling.
Remember, Barbara,
you whom I didn't know,
you who didn't know me,
remember,
anyway remember that day,
don't forget.
A man was sheltering in a doorway
and he called your name,
Barbara,
and you ran towards him,in the rain,
blossoming, delighted, flowing
and threw yourself into his arms.
Remember that, Barbara,
and don't resent me calling you "tu",
I say "tu" to everyone I like
even if I've only seen them once.
I say "tu" to eveyone who is in love,
even if I'don't know them at all.
Remember, Barbara,
don't forget
that wise and happy rain
on your happy face
on that happy town,
that rain on the sea,
on the naval dockyard,
on the Ushant boat.
Oh Barbara,
what idiocy war is,
what have you become now
under this rain of iron,
of fire of steel or blood,
and he who held you in his arms
lovingly
is he dead, missing, or perhaps still alive?
Oh Barbara,
it's raining incessantly on Brest
just as it was raining before,
but it's not the same any more and all is ruined,
it's a rain of dreadful and desolate grief,
it isn't any more even the storm
of iron of steel of blood
but nothing more than clouds
which pass away like dogs,
dogs which disappear
in the current over Brest
and go to decompose far away,
far away from Brest
of which nothing is left.