Hotel Particulier [English translation]

At number fifty-six, seven, eight… who knows,

Of the unnameable street, if you knock on the door

One knock first, then three more, they will let you in

Alone or sometimes even not alone.

Without saying a word, a maid leads you

Through a haze of endless stairs and hallways

Adorning baroque bronzes, gilded angels,

Aphrodites and Salomés

If it’s available, say that you want room forty-four

They call it here the Cleopatra room,

Where ebony bodies holding torches

Cover the rococo style bed columns

Among these naked slaves carved in wood,

All silent witnesses to the scene,

While above us a mirror reflects our image,

Slowly I embrace Melody.