Not so lost in Translation

To wait for you

If that's to be the case

But understand

That the enemy

Is mute

And not what we think

Understand

That if it's time that will unite us

While sleeping*

Is she a canvas**

Is she tender, her fingers

Are they loving?

I see her gestures

They resemble mine

Is she youthful? I'm leaving

The weight of my destiny in your hands

Keep it

Hold on to me, though you love another

Hold on to me, it's not my fault

Then, if I see that it's my choice

Your heart is already taken, so I think

That love is sometimes...just like that

So hold on to me

It's been said, I know : your heart is taken

So hold on to me

Even if it's to be this way

To wait for you

If that's to be the case

But surprise me

With all the unsaid things

I lose my voice

When I am close to you

Understand

If time is what we will lack

While sleeping

Is she a canvas?

Is she tender, her fingers

Are they loving?

I see her gestures

Coming together like mine

Real caresses, I leave

The weight her sorrow

Between your hands

Keep it

::::::::::

*the original word is "toile," which means "cloth." Darn metaphorical differences between French and English. I have the impression that to be "toile" means photogenic (in terms of having one's portrait done).

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