Like an invisible thread between Him and She
it knits amorous ties
In the convoluted unconscious
it wanders free as a bird
And everything flickers
what's outside it dims down
Only a hunger in our hearts
it changes a slave into a king
and can fell the saints down from their skies
it can damn the righteous or the wise
And there's nothing for it.
You resist it, all wrapped up in yourself
pictures, and tokens of happy times.
Like a terrorist he rams through your door
In just a blink everything's washed away
Crawling and spying
and begging for words
you read its poets and relish its paintings
(tu lis ses poètes, aimes ses tableaux)
And you try to cross her path
Suddenly you are fifteen again
your whole world's turned around
And there's nothing for it.
It intrudes when you least expect it
Sart believing in it and it evaporates
Brother, you who it once got hooked
You never again be able to withdraw
It leaves us empty
and more dead than alive
it's it that calls the tune
we can only make believe
it chooses its quirks
its going out and coming in
such are the ways of love
And there's nothing for it.