My sleepless nights aren't white1,
Scarcely scattered of stars.
Little holes in the watertight canvas,
Sad strata on the cloak.
And I, bewitched of darkness,
I spend infinite hours
Counting funeral sheep
Which upholster my insomnia.
Ah, midnight is there.
Ah, I'm not sleeping.
And less I sleep and more I'm thinking,
and more I'm thinking and less I forget.
Vast impasse, immense space
Which extend at the end of my bed.
All these silences are unheard-of,
How this boredom is immense2.
Should I resort to the science ?
Anaesthetise insomnia ?
Ah, midnight is there.
Ah, I'm not sleeping.
And past midnight I'm dancing
At the tachycardia3 pace
And everything got carried away and everything is swinging
And I'm spread by everything and I'm fled by everything.
Moon is a little rancid fruit,
Life is a sickness.
The ones dreaming are at least lucky,
And the others got sleeplessness.
The ones dreaming are at least lucky,
And the others got insomnia.
The ones dreaming are at least lucky,
And the others got insomnia.
Ah, midnight is there.
Ah, I'm not sleeping.
Ah, midnight is there.
Ah, I'm not sleeping.
I'm not sleeping.
I'm not sleeping.
I'm not sleeping.
I'm not sleeping.
I'm not sleeping.
1. Literally, this line means "my white nights aren't white", it is a pun in french, so "nuit blanche" is translated by "sleepless night" (but lit. "white night")2. In french, "cosmique" is a literary term which means also in french "immense"3. Excessively fast heartbeat