Why does all my
strength escape
Through my mouth
Which condemns me
And makes mistakes
Without my being able to help it
Why can't I think?
Why has the moon gone crazy?
It no longer loves me
It no longer touches me
Swooning* moon
Why are you leaving?
Because I no longer live [life]
Always preoccupying myself
With your hair
That always
clouded the sky
And threatened to storm
And tastes minty
Because I no longer write
Neither when I can nor when I want to
Because I am no longer the first
Why do they sound
So off
All of the chords
Of my desire?
Why do I see you today
And today I don't
Why don't you keep still?
And why dream?
Why is dreaming no longer
Ugly or pretty?
Why does it become the very last
The very last, the very last
[Thing] that remains?
Stop to think
To think why
Your thoughts
Act as a bonfire
Whereby I
Burn from the outside
And you on the inside
What, it doesn't look so bad on you
That pretty black dress
What happens to me is that
If you take your clothes off, I will fly