The divine hope that two can manage to form
And that to two we share,
The hope to love long, to love always, to love
Every day more;
The eternal desire, chimerical and touching,
Let the lovers sigh,
At the adorable moment when, while seeking each other,
Their lips are breathing;
This disappointing desire, this deceiving hope,
We never spoke of it;
And I suffer to see that we are afraid of it,
Although he is in our souls.
When I whisper you, lover questioned,
A sweet answer,
That’s the word: – Forever! – on the lips that I have,
Without saying it;
And although a dear echo says it in your heart,
Your silence is the same,
While on your breast, dying of languor,
I swear I love you.
What does the past matter? What does the future matter?
The best thing
is to believe that she never has to finish,
The illusion of an hour.
And when I say to you: – Forever! – do not do anything
Who dispels this dream,
And that more tenderly your kiss on mine
Lean and prolong!