La carte du tendre [English translation]

Along the the river flowing

through the banks of meeting

from the spring of wondering,

as a new day dawns

a whole dreamy landscape can be seen:

the tender land of lovers.

You go forth with your heart

trembling from the joy of sailing together,

not knowing what awaits you.

So does begin a journey

strewn with the hardships and illusions

of love and its torments.

Some streams of slander

shatter the silence

trying to sweep everything away.

Shipwreck threatens also

when the wind carries you near

the islands of infidelity.

Farther on the flow pushes you

toward the rocks of dissension

and difficulties to cope with each other.

At last the soil becomes bare:

that's the desert of habit

laid waste by boredom.

When the road seems too long,

there is the stopover of lie,

the inn of jealousy

where resentment is the main dish,

bitterness is served as wine1

and pride sits at your table2.

But when everything seems to drift apart,

the river's quick waters flow again

and we sail endlessly forth

until you discover on the banks of Tender

the garden where you can lay and rest.

1. lit "we get drunk on bitterness here"2. lit. "and pride keeps you company"