You told me that night …
You have told me tonight so beautiful words
That no doubt the flowers, leaning towards us,
Suddenly loved us and that one of them,
To touch us both, fell on our knees.
You spoke to me of the coming times when our years,
like overripe fruits, would let themselves be picked;
How would the knell of destinies burst,
How one would love oneself, by feeling oneself aging.
Your voice hugged me like a dear embrace,
And your heart burned so quietly beautiful
That at that moment, I could have seen opening without fear
The tortuous paths that go to the tomb.
Your beautiful eyes…
Your beautiful eyes on my frankness
Do not address well their blows,
Bald head and gray beard
Are not meat for you;
When I have the time to please you,
It would be wasting time;
Iris, what could you do about
a gallant fifty?
What makes you adorable
Is only fit to alarm me,
I find you too kind
And fear to love you too much:
My heart to take is easy,
My wishes are most constant;
But it is a piece of furniture useless than
a gentleman of fifty.
If the armor is complete,
if all goes as it should,
it is better to retreat
What to undertake an assault:
Love not making instead
AT bad fighters,
And laughed vain audacity
Of the gallant fifty years old.