Before burning Paris (N. Hikmet)
long as there is still time, my love and
Paris before it burns while it's still time, my love
until my heart is on his branch
I would like a night in May
one night along the Seine
Voltaire
kiss on the mouth and then going to Notre-Dame
contemplate his
rosette, and suddenly bolting
me weep with joy fear wonder
and the stars weep silently
mixed with light rain.
long time yet, my love and
Paris before it burns while it's still time, my love
until my heart is on his branch
on this night of May
under the willows along the Seine, my rose, with you
under the weeping willows soft rain
I'd say the two words most repeated in Paris
the most repeated, the most sincere
burst of happiness
whistling a song and we will believe in men.
At the top, the stone houses
without humps or hollows
stuck with their walls in the moonlight, and their windows straight
who sleep standing on the shore and in front of the Louvre
illuminated by floodlights illuminated by two of us
our beautiful crystal palace.
long time yet, my love and
Paris before it burns while it's still time, my love
until my heart is on his branch
on this night in May, along the Seine, warehouses
we will sit on the barrels
red across the river in the dark night to greet the
barge passing yellow cab
- to Belgium or to the Netherlands? -
front of the cab a woman with a white apron
smiles sweetly.
long time yet, my love
Paris and before it burns while it's still time, my love.
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