Her eyes reflect this habit of her
of being inconspicuous
and the grey of loneliness
is part of her furniture.
Her hair brush1 the sadness
of her face that fades
with each new spring bustling
around her unloved2 body.
But in her bed at night, she dreams
of a fairytale that tells her
that her mirror lied to her
that she's rather pretty than ugly,
that one day her very own prince will come
and tenderly whisper:
"you are not ugly,
just look at me."
You are not ugly,
just look at you."
In shop windows, mannequins,
beautiful by trade,
sneer at this gloomy blue in which
she dresses from head to toes.
Working days are all she has
to put some colour into the naked truth
of her Sundays dragging
behind her deserted heart.
But in her bed at night, she dreams
of a fairytale that tells her
that her mirror lied to her
that she's rather pretty than ugly,
that one day her very own prince will come
and tenderly whisper:
"you are not ugly,
just look at me."
You are not ugly,
just look at you."
Her everyday confidant
is but a notebook whose bindings
know she spoke of love.
On the last page of a paper:
Single not-so-pretty girl
well versed in isolation3
would share her life and nights
with a companion of distress.
And tonight, lying in her bed,
she saw a fairytale prince4
who took her into his arms and said:
"you're not ugly,
just look at me.
You're not ugly,
just look at me.
You're not ugly,
just look at you."
1. "friser" can mean "curl" or "come very close to"2. lit. "poorly embraced". This alludes to the saying "qui trop embrasse mal étreint" ("he who kisses too much embraces poorly", equivalent to "jack of all trades, master of none")3. lit. "in a quarantine of tenderness". "quarantaine" also means "in her forties". Couldn't find a way to render that elegant pun4. another nice pun on "conte" (tale) and "comte" (count)