Langue d'arrivée: Anglais
THE ROSE AND THE ROCK
You say to me that for what you have lived through
your heart is now no more than a rock.
I feel, however, by its long-suffering beat
you have a sprout, blossoming in your chest.
You carry on your face the sturdy mask
the weight of which hurts you and brings you pain.
Would it be natural and fair
hiding it from the one who unveils the love to you?
When my kiss finally sails your face
your body shivers in my arms, unintentionally,
as if the gentle breeze of the ocean was passing.
and you, little flower, surrendered for a moment
undoing, in an instant, the old impasse:
Roses, not rocks sway in the wind...
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