Dear Veronique, when you will read me
Dear Véronique, do not make fun
Dear Veronique, I would like to tell you
But I do not dare
Dear Veronique, if our two families
Were scrambled to death sometime
From the neighboring wall, through the grids
Me, I dream of you
And perched in the banches
Large magnolia dominating the park
I spent the summer watching you
Dear Veronique, when you will read me
Dear Véronique, do not make fun
Dear Veronique, I would like to tell you
But I do not dare
The night of St. John
The storm was choking me
I was looking for fresh under the veranda
When someone sang
Dear Veronique, your voice is troubled and tender
That night was singing my song
And I lost my mind hearing it
I fled the house
Since then I'm being watched, but
In my sleep
I touch your fingers, your hair undone
Your eyes a blueberry
Dear Veronique, the night I delirium
And the morning tears you off my arms
Dear Veronique, when you will read me
Do not laugh
At dawn, tomorrow
I'm leaving for a long time
I am sent very far
Less to work
What to forget you
Dear Veronique, when you will read me
Dear Véronique, do not make fun
Dear Veronique, I would like to tell you
But I do not dare
Dear Veronique, never will read
The poor letter of her lover
Dear Veronique, because I tear it
And throw it into the fire, and throw it into the fire, and throw it in
fire.