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I often hunt you in my dreams, |
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But your wicked claw awaits me, |
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Aboard this snow-lit island, |
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Veins like tortured winter trees, |
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'Tis the service of my hand, |
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That silence climbs upon thee. |
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You are sweet and fine to listen to ! |
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Long tresses about your neck, |
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Yet much is false. |
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This mighty evening, |
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I've seen no face. |
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This is crushing me. |
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My quill it aches. |
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And old ships die like swans, |
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Against our frozen icy shore, |
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Pass your dying body, |
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I leave you in your thoughts |
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Trees dance and fail |
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Tell them I came |
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My beauty pale |
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Was yours the same? |
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Viens, il est temps de partir |
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Je vais regretter ta haine |
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Ta vainte triomphante |
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Fera sa reverence |
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I laid them in books |
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Just your heart and mine |
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For lovers to read |
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The lonely to pine |
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Through my broken skin |
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And cherry tree blood |
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The real world falls in |
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A false life of love |
