I would like some green sun,
Some lace and teapots,
Photos of the seaside
In my winter garden.
I would like some light
Like in New England.
I want to have a change of atmosphere
In my winter garden.
My flower dress in the November rain,
Your hands that run, I can’t wait for you any longer.
Years pass, how far is the tender age.
No one can hear us.
I would like “some” Fred Astaire,
To see a Latécoère again.
I would like me to still appeal to you
In my winter garden.
I want to have lunch on the floor
Along the clear gulfs,
To kiss you my eyes open
In my winter garden.
My flower dress in the November rain,
Your hands that run, I can’t wait for you any longer.
Years pass, how far is the tender age.
No one can hear us.