If there are men
on all these trains
who will one day take you,
tell them the song
one hears sometimes.
That song
which everyone, one nice evening, has heard
when love leaves the train
to change lines.
And if they tell you about the weather,
about what they haven't done,
about their sailboats over the western horizon
that they're chasing,
tell them that, here, solitude
carries our voices
when we cease loving
such that we no longer embrace.
Tell them they love
that they won't forget,
that one day everything will stop.
Tell them they're crying
that they're dying with joy,
that one only lives once,
even if loving here
is suffering 100 times.
If there are times
when nothing comes to erase your
doubts,
if regrets
know where to find you the night,
choose to love
like you would choose a line,
that this melody
might stretch across forever.
If there are men
in the towns where you will walk,
tell them that, far away,
like them, other men
are cold,
that they are so afraid,
that they forget too often
about love.
Also tell that that one day
we'll have nothing else.
(chorus)
Even if living here
is to die 100 times.
Hold hands.
Really live
as if never to pass away.
Love endlessly,
like children.
Love to the highest, without thinking about it.
(chorus x2)