#chanson des vieux amants

[stillerwolf]

Was es mit mir macht, "La chanson des vieux amants" von Jaques Brel zu hören

Ich sitze wieder in dem alten Hörsaal an der Fac lettres im elften Stock. Vorne steht der alte Professor, dessen Name mir entfallen ist und der so aussieht, als hätte ihn sein ganzes Leben auf nichts anderes vorbereitet als neugierigen und orientierungslosen internationalen Studierenden an angestaubten Chansons die Finessen der französischen Sprache näherzubringen. Ich spüre die Schwere, die in dieser Musik liegt, ein Rückblick auf ein ganzes Leben mit den Turbulenzen einer alternden Liebe, dans cette chambre sans berceau. Einer Liebe, die ein zarter Krieg ist, die immer noch besteht nach Jahrzehnten und diversen Liebschaften. Es macht mich schwermütig, wehmütig, führt mich zurück an das Fenster im elften Stock mit dem Ausblick auf die winterdunkle Stadt Nancy. Es erinnert mich an meine Heimatlosigkeit in der Ferne. An Stan, der so heißt wie der Platz, der nicht so golden ist, aber deutlich mehr auslöst in mir, wenn ich ihn sehe.

Es fühlt sich an, als wäre dieses Kapitel meines Lebens hundert Jahre her. Als überdauere diese Liebe alle Zeiten: Mon amour, mon doux, mon tendre, mon merveilleux amour. De l'aube clair jusqu'à la fin du jour - je t'aime encore ...

[aschenblumen]

Jacques Brel, «La chanson des vieux amants». Música de Jacques Brel y Gérard Jouannest.

Nous protégeons moins nos mystères On laisse moins faire le hasard On se méfie du fil de l'eau Mais c'est toujours la tendre guerre

[orpheuslament]

got so caught up on the euphoria of iwtv content i forgot how much i hate video editing

[clacclo]

La Canzone Dei Vecchi Amanti

(La chanson des vieux amants)

Certo ci fu qualche tempesta

anni d'amore alla follia.

Mille volte tu dicesti basta

mille volte io me ne andai via.

Ed ogni mobile ricorda

in questa stanza senza culla

i lampi dei vecchi contrasti

non c'era più una cosa giusta

avevi perso il tuo calore

ed io la febbre di conquista.

Mio amore mio dolce mio meraviglioso amore

dall'alba chiara finché il giorno muore

ti amo ancora, sai, ti amo.

So tutto delle tue magie

e tu della mia intimità

sapevo delle tue bugie

tu delle mie tristi viltà.

So che hai avuto degli amanti

bisogna pur passare il tempo

bisogna pur che il corpo esulti

ma c'é voluto del talento

per riuscire ad invecchiare senza diventare adulti.

Mio amore mio dolce mio meraviglioso amore

dall'alba chiara finché il giorno muore

ti amo ancora, sai, ti amo.

Il tempo passa e ci scoraggia

tormenti sulla nostra via

ma dimmi c'é peggior insidia

che amarsi con monotonia.

Adesso piangi molto dopo

io mi dispero con ritardo

non abbiamo più misteri

si lascia meno fare al caso

scendiamo a patti con la terra

però è la stessa dolce guerra.

Mon amour

mon doux, mon tendre, mon merveilleux amour

de l'aube claire jusqu'à la fin du jour

je t'aime encore, tu sais, je t'ame.

[sebastienbobiet1307]

Le bon vieux temps

[transparentgentlemenmarker]

Paroles de "La Chanson Des Vieux Amants" Jacques Brel

Bien sûr, nous eûmes des orages. Vingt ans d'amour, c'est l'amour fol. Mille fois tu pris ton bagage. Mille fois je pris mon envol. Et chaque meuble se souvient. Dans cette chambre sans berceau. Des éclats des vieilles tempêtes. Plus rien ne ressemblait à rien. Tu avais perdu le goût de l'eau. Et moi celui de la conquête

Mais mon amour. Mon doux mon tendre mon merveilleux amour

De l'aube claire jusqu'à la fin du jour. Je t'aime encore, tu sais, je t'aime. Moi, je sais tous tes sortilèges. Tu sais tous mes envoûtements. Tu m'as gardé de pièges en pièges. Je t'ai perdue de temps en temps. Bien sûr tu pris quelques amants. Il fallait bien passer le temps. Il faut bien que le corps exulte. Finalement finalement. Il nous fallut bien du talent. Pour être vieux sans être adultes

Ô mon amour. Mon doux mon tendre mon merveilleux amour

De l'aube claire jusqu'à la fin du jour. Je t'aime encore, tu sais, je t'aime. Et plus le temps nous fait cortège. Et plus le temps nous fait tourment. Mais n'est-ce pas le pire piège. Que vivre en paix pour des amants. Bien sûr tu pleures un peu moins tôt. Je me déchire un peu plus tard. Nous protégeons moins nos mystères. On laisse moins faire le hasard. On se méfie du fil de l'eau. Mais c'est toujours la tendre guerre

Ô mon amour. Mon doux mon tendre mon merveilleux amour

De l'aube claire jusqu'à la fin du jour. Je t'aime encore, tu sais, je t'aime

[mucillo]

Jacques Brel - La chanson des vieux amants

....mille volte ho preso il volo...

( anche la versione di Battiato è da ascoltare)

[vroomvroommbtch]

La chanson des vieux amants - PG x fem!reader

Masterlist

Summary: Another night of nightmares meant another night of cuddless to keep the monsters away, even if for a couple hours.

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x fem!reader

Warnings: Sadness and fluff all over the place.

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: I wrote this thingy in one day as a love letter for my dear sunshine redhead baby girl @amsofftrack, who also made the French translation because she’s a French sunshine. So yeah, enjoy and I’m leaving the french translation in the comments. See you soon -i hope- back with the Irish and the Aussies. Life has been nothing but a mess. Being an adult suck but I’ll be back soon. See ya ✌🏻

La chanson des vieux amants.

The biggest irony in their lives was how they just couldn't have it all. No matter how badly they wanted it, it was just impossible. It wasn't that bad in her case, but on Pierre's side it was nothing but terrible.

She has been crazy over Pierre for forever. She had liked Pierre since they were kids, but she never had the courage to say a thing. It was actually him who bought it up out of nowhere, while they celebrated his transfer from Toro Rosso to RedBull. It was him who asked for a kiss while they danced the night away in the middle of one of his counted free weekends. It was her who thought Pierre was joking when it happened. After all those years of dreaming of that moment, she couldn't believe it was real. She couldn't believe it was happening, but then Pierre whispered in her ear that it was no joke all while his grip around her waist tightened. She wanted to kill him, but instead all she said was a very serious 'Je t’adresserai plus jamais la parole si tu me fais une blague'. But it wasn't a joke. It was far from a joke, and that night not only did they kiss and spend their first night together, but they didn't get apart ever again. All their friends and family were happy saying it was about time they realized they had started dating and realized they were in love with each other, but nobody was as happy as she and Pierre were. Even with the distance and traveling and complications they made it work because it was them and there was no way on Earth they would ever break each other's hearts. A lifetime of friendship wasn't going to end because of a failed relationship, and it didn't.  

But then, what Pierre -and everyone- thought were going to be the best months of his life turned into nothing but an absolute nightmare. He had the girls of his dreams, and he was finally on the team he wanted to be, so Pierre really thought he finally had it all. Like some kind of joke from the universe, almost everything felt apart. Like a cruel joke from destiny, it all happened in the same week and it all started with Anthoine.

She was there at Spa when it happened. She was watching the race when it happened, but somehow her brain deleted everything that happened that day. It was some kind of defense mechanism for her own body, but she was almost sure it happened because Pierre needed her. It felt terrible to let him go so he could get in the car to race and do his job. It felt awful not being able to beg him to stay with her instead of going to race. It felt even worse to tell him he had no get up from the bed when all Pierre wanted to do was stay there and when all she wanted to do was to protect him from everything. But life was so terrible that it didn't even end up in losing a friend.

The next Monday morning she called to work to ask for some extra days off, explaining everything that had happened. They did grant those days, saying everything was okay, but they also informed her there was a chance for her to be transferred to London. From all the people in the world they wanted her to go. It sounded good, it included a promotion and she loved London, but that also meant being away from Pierre. She lied saying she was going to think about it and give an answer when she was back, but the only available answer was a big no. It was a clear no, especially when the news appeared about RedBull sending Pierre back to Toro Rosso.

If his heart was shattered by losing one of his best friends, then this finally broke him. It broke his heart in so many pieces that she had no idea how she actually kept it together. That's what brought her to quit her job. When Pierre found out, he told her she was absolutely insane, and that they could have made it work somehow, but she could see in those baby blue shinny eyes how he was thankful she wasn't leaving. She couldn't leave her boyfriend alone, not in the worst moments, not when he needed her, not when she had to hold him night after night that she would never leave his side. And those nights all she could really do was hug him, keeping him as close as possible, kissing every available inch of his skin, whispering that she loved him and that she was there. That's all she could say. There were no words, especially when there was no such thing as 'It's gonna be alright'. She wasn't going to lie to the man she loved, so she rather stayed quiet, playing with his hair as Pierre held onto her.  

It took him some time to get back on his feet. It took him years and support and therapy and love from his family and friends to get back to the man he was before. It took time to rebuild his confidence. It took night after night of reassurance, kissing his face and drying his tears to put inside his head once again the idea that he deserved a seat and to be racing there. It took him long talks to also make him remember that she loved him no matter what. She couldn't care less what his job was, she just loved her P, just like she loved him when they were younger and she had no idea what the word 'love' really meant. 

But even after three years, Pierre was still dealing with it. She knew Pierre never really forgot about that terrible year and the only confirmation that she needed were his nightmares. No matter what, he still had those awful dreams about everyone being disappointed, goddamn Helmut Marko talking at him like he was useless, and doing good laps all for nothing. They started as little whimpers, unconsciously holding her closer to his body during his sleep. But even with time, things didn't get better. He still woke up from those nightmares with tears in his eyes or sweat on his forehead and it killed her. It killed her to see those blue eyes hurting, clouded with pain for feeling like she wasn't good enough. Those moments she really had no idea what to say, so she held him closer, dried his tears, kissed his lips and told him to go back to sleep, asking him to please wake her up if he needed her.  

That night wasn't different from the rest. She had no idea what time it was, but she couldn't care less. Outside it was still dark and it was Sunday, so it meant having Pierre all day for herself in the middle of two free weeks until the next race. There was no gym that day, so it also meant waking up by his side to a slow morning and there was nothing she loved more than that. But that was far from the way she woke up that night. It was the tossing and turning who made her open her eyes. It was also not feeling his body against hers which made her feel cold even in a warm bed. Not feeling him was what alarmed her, instantly opening her eyes to find Pierre's back in front of her. It was an automatic response to move enough to snuggle back against his body, hiding her face against his back as she hugged him. She didn't need to see his face or listen to him talk to know he was uneasy, she could feel it in his tense body, so her best idea was to place her hand on his chest. It was their little thing, their little ritual to know they were there, together and that she was going to be there no matter what. It was a little thing that normally would calm Pierre even if for a moment.  

And she thought it worked. She thought it was enough to make him fall asleep after she felt him relax against her, but it didn't. Automatically after she placed his hand on his chest, Pierre laced their fingers together, but some long minutes after that, he brought their joined hands to his lips, placing a soft kiss in her knuckles, and finally resting them back against her chest. It wasn't like she could sleep either, so she kissed his back once again, letting him know she was there if he needed her.  

"J’t’ai réveillé?" Pierre asked in a soft raspy voice, almost scared of talking too loud in the dark, silent room.  

"Non" she lied, knowing he was going to feel guilty even about that. He didn't need that, not that day, not ever. "Tu sais que je t’aime et que je serai toujours la, hein?"  

"Pour toujours et à jamais, pas vrai?" Pierre asked, and to answer his questions, she nodded, placing another kiss against his warm tanned skin. "Tu penses que ça s’arrêtera un jour?"  

That was one of the questions that haunted her. Every time Pierre asked if it was going to stop haunting and hurting him, she would have to think extra hard to answer. She knew it was going to hurt less with the time, but she hated not being able to take all that pain away from him or not being able to share the weight of his shoulders. Damn, she hated not being able to say when it was going to stop.  

"Éventuellement oui, je te promets que ça passera, P. Pas aujourd’hui, ni demain, mais ça passera. Et puis on a une tonnes de bons souvenirs pour remplacer ceux la, pas vrai?" she whispered, hopping her words would be enough. But when Pierre didn't answer, she knew it wasn't. That was one of those very bad nights when nightmares were too bad and too vivid, so it would take more than some silly words and promises to make him feel better. "Tournes toi mon amour"  

She didn't need to see him to know he was doubting what to do next. More than once Pierre told her that it was scary to let her in, no because he didn't want to or because he didn't love her with his whole heart, but because he was scared for her. Even if they had known each other their whole life, Pierre was convinced that letting her in the darkest parts of his mind could do nothing but taint her too, and he couldn't do that. No to her. Not to his love. Not to his best friend.  

But finally he turned, facing her and getting so close that their foreheads and noses touched. But even with all the movement turning, her right hand found his chest again, placing her palm over his heart as her left hand found his cheek. If he didn't want to talk anymore then it was fine, but she needed to remind him of their love and how it was beyond everything, so she placed a soft, tender, short peck against his lips as she stroked his cheek with her thumb as carefully as possible.  

She would have gotten scared if Pierre hadn't kissed her back, but he did, kissing her once more after their first one, all to finally take some deep breaths and be able to talk. "Et si ça marche pas?"  

"Alors on créera encore plus de souvenirs" she promised. That was the only thing that she could really promise, that and being there by his side through the thick and thin. "On a déjà commencé" she affirmed, automatically looking at her left hand and the ring resting on her finger. Even in the dark room and with almost no light coming from the window, she could see the diamond shining on her hand, making her smile a bit remembering the day Pierre asked her to marry him because 'Je me marierai avec personne d’autre que toi, et je te laisserai pas te marier avec une autre personne que moi’. She couldn't help but smile when she remembered how drunk they were when Pierre asked and how he asked again the next day, promising he meant every single word that came from his lips that night.  

But not only that was on the list of memories together. From their first anniversary, to birthdays celebrations tangled in their sheets and lazy mornings to her moving together to his apartment in Firenze with him and nights dancing in the kitchen whispering sweet nothings and how much they loved each other, they got to build a life together. She always joked saying it was like a sequel to their story as best friends, but Pierre told her time after time that he couldn't care less about which part it was as long as they kept adding chapters together to that story.

“T’as raison” Pierre agreed, turning his head enough to be able to kiss her hand and the silver ring on it. " T’as toujours raison. Même quand on était gamins t’avais déjà toujours raison"  

"C’est moi qui t’ai dis que t’allais réussir à avoir une carrière en conduisant des voitures qui vont vites, donc ouais, j’avais raison" she shrugged, kissing his lips once again, finally seeing a teeny tiny little smirk appearing in his handsome face.  

"C’est pour ça que je t’épouse" he shrugged, snuggling closer to her, hiding his face in her neck as he tightened his grip around her waist. "Et j’ai vraiment hate qu’on se marie" he whispered, kissing her neck a couple times as she just focused on the way his lips felt against her, but especially the way their bodies felt together. There was nothing as their legs tangled together and their arms grabbing each other as tightly as possible, too scared to let go.  

"Bientot, mon amour. Bientot. Maintenant on va se recoucher. On fera des oeufs brouillés au petit dej, okay?" she murmured, running her fingers through his messy hair as she traced lines and circles all around his back with her other hand. That was yet another of her ways to make Pierre fall asleep, and she figured it was working as she felt his breathing slow down. That only meant he was relaxing and that was what Pierre needed.  

"Je t’aime encore plus juste pour ça" he yawned, and as soon as he did that, she took her chance to kiss his forehead.  

"Je t’aime plus, P. Je t’aime vraiment plus" she insisted. On any other day, Pierre would have fought to have the last word and say he loved her even more, but he was asleep before he could say a thing, leaving her praying to whatever was out there for her boyfriend to not have another one of those terrible nightmares.

[coolvieilledentelle]

La chanson des vieux amants.. Lisa Ducasse...

Originaire de l'île Maurice, Lisa Ducasse est poétesse autant que chanteuse. Bercée dans son enfance par les grands classiques de la chanson française, elle reprend ici un texte de Jacques BREL "La chanson des vieux amants", dont son père Michel Ducasse, le poète mauricien à écrit la version créole...

[chansonsinternationales]

PHILIPPE-GÉRARD (compositeur), “Léo FERRÉ, mon ami” (extraits), L’Humanité-dimanche du 29 janvier 1961 (et Les Copains d’la neuille n°33, p9) : LÉO FERRÉ, mon ami. Oui, depuis plus de quinze ans déjà. Et peut-être qu’aujourd’hui cette amitié grandit encore, comme sans cesse mon estime pour son talent. Aujourd’hui, c’est pour lui le triomphe. Son récital au Vieux-Colombier, c’est un évènement de la saison artistique à Paris… …J’ai rencontré Léo pour la première fois à Paris chez Edith Piaf. C’était peu après la Libération. Il arrivait de Monte-Carlo avec une pointe d’ail dans sa parole et des rayons de soleil méditerranéen cachés derrière son large front. Sa façon de se coiffer et ses lunettes cerclées de métal le faisaient un peu ressembler à un enfant de Beethoven et de Schubert, mais à beaucoup d’autres titres, même physiques, il était déjà Léo Ferré. Bien sûr, nous n’étions pas nombreux à nous en rendre compte, mais nous le savions au fond de nous-mêmes et c’était un peu de réconfort dans les moments difficiles que nous avons alors traversés ensemble. Car nous en avons mangé, à cette époque, de la vache enragée !… …Edith Piaf, à qui nous venions présenter, lui son remarquable “Opéra du ciel” et moi l’une de mes premières chansons sur des paroles de Francis Carco, “Le Voyageur”, ne chanta jamais ni l’une ni l’autre. Bien qu’elle nous accueillit toujours avec beaucoup de sympathie et même de chaleur, il nous fallut attendre quelques années pour qu’elle interprète, de lui, “Les Amants de Paris” qui fut la seule chanson de Léo à son répertoire, et de moi, “Pour moi toute seule”, qui marqua mon départ dans ce métier… http://www.frmusique.ru/texts/f/ferre_leo/operaduciel.htm , L'Opera Du Ciel Léo Ferré : http://www.deezer.com/fr/track/104075228 EDITH PIAF - LES AMANTS DE PARIS Paroles: Léo Ferré, musique: Léo Ferré et Eddie Marnay, enr. 11 juin 1948, que l’on entend aussi dans le film de Jean Eustache LA MAMAN ET LA PUTAIN : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0pTr0zizDA8 Edith Piaf - Pour Moi Toute Seule (Guy Lafarge; Philippe-Gérard; Flavien Monod. Blues; “Edith Piaf Sings”; French; …): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H4OA1jy-cj8 Renée Lebas , Le Voyageur sans bagage (ou Le Voyageur) - (Auteur : Francis Carco, F.Moslay. Compositeur : Philippe-Gérard ) : http://www.deezer.com/fr/track/138826035 Catherine Sauvage, Le Voyageur (sans bagage) : http://www.deezer.com/fr/track/74805675

[musette22]

Jesus Minnie, on that 'kill switch song' post you reblogged, I love your music taste. Please don't ever be shy about sharing your playlists! Although if you feel comfortable with that, if not, I couldn't respect it more, since I'm really protective of music that means a lot to me myself, I can't share them because I'm like "You don't get it like I do! You don't love this song like I do!" so I'm a hypocrite I guess 😂

Anyways, lots of love to you and your loved ones 💙💙

Aarrghh lovely, you honestly couldn't give me a higher compliment than this, my music is very personal and very important to me ❤️ Thank you so much! And right back at you, clearly 😉

But yeah, like also means that my playlists are very personal to me, so I'm not totally comfortable sharing them, I'm afraid. Thanks for understanding, and I totally get what you mean too 😂 But I have thought of a few more kill switch songs since yesterday, so I could share those instead? Hope you like some of these too! 🫶🏼

The ones I mentioned yesterday were:

Famous Blue Raincoat by Leonard Cohen

Big Ideas by Arctic Monkeys

I Get Along Without You Very Well by Chet Baker

And then there's also:

Sweet Baby James by James Taylor

In The Wee Small Hours of the Morning by Frank Sinatra

American Tune by Paul Simon

I'll Be Seeing You by Billie Holiday

Weight of Love by the Black Keys (that guitar solo... goosebumps and tears every time)

Chanson des Vieux Amants by Jacques Brel

The Bones of You by Elbow

A Case of You by Joni Mitchell

Desperado by the Eagles

I, Carrion by Hozier

Oh My Love by John Lennon

Lover, You Should've Come Over by Jeff Buckley

And may more lmao. Okayyyy so maybe music makes me cry pretty often 🙈 I do listen to a lot of happy stuff as well as more recent rock and indie too (though I don't keep up with the charts at all, I have to admit), but yeah, overall there's a lot of older stuff in my playlists 😅 If you've got any recommendations for me nonnie, then please do feel free to share!

Sending you hugs and tons of love! 💕💕

[swedesinstockholm]

25 septembre

ce matin je me suis réveillée à l'aube, je suis allée acheter du pain à la boulangerie dans ma chemise de nuit ancestrale et j'ai mangé mon croissant assise dans les dunes en regardant la mer, on voyait bien les pyrénées. puis je suis rentrée mettre mon maillot et je suis repartie à la plage, y avait personne, puis seul au monde m'a rejoint et on est restés assis sur nos serviettes en silence, séparés mais ensemble. quand c. est arrivée il sortait de l'eau et ils ont brièvement discuté, ce qui m'a permis de le voir de près de nouveau. il est très maigre mais musclé, il a l'air vieux, et il a l'accent. je suis retournée à la bouée couvée par son regard et celui de marie, probablement en train de délibérer si j'avais les aptitudes nécessaires pour intégrer leur club des amants de la mer. ça m'a donné du courage, j'avançais comme une fusée. elle nage le crawl elle aussi avec son double bonnet, son masque et son tuba. quand elle sort de l'eau elle le porte sur l'épaule comme un sac à main. quand je suis arrivée à la bouée y avait une mouette perchée dessus, je lui ai dit coucou et je suis repartie aussi sec, j'aime pas trop traîner autour, j'ai peur de la chaîne qui descend dans les profondeurs. en revenant je me suis laissée flotter en chantonnant ma chanson de saturne en pensant à r. qui m'a dit qu'il voulait essayer une instru dessus et je souriais toute seule face à l'horizon pailleté.

hier on a de nouveau eu un de nos échanges où on part d'une image et chacun renchérit dessus avec des mots très imagés très vite et ça pourrait déjà être une performance en soi. ça part toujours tout seul et c'est toujours très drôle. je lui ai parlé de ma passion pour le palais de justice à bruxelles et il m'a demandé si j'y étais déjà rentrée et maintenant j'ai un nouveau fantasme: m'introduire dans le palais de justice avec r. la nuit et explorer tous les étages à la lampe torche du téléphone comme dans une comédie romantiques pour adolescents.

27 septembre

j'ai rêvé de seul au monde, c'était un peu bof, je nageais dans la mer sans regarder où j'allais et je lui suis rentrée dedans, c'était confus et agité et je me suis pas excusée parce que j'y voyais rien, et puis j'étais sur la plage bondée comme jamais et sa serviette était collée à la mienne derrière moi et je me suis retournée pour lui dire je suis désolée de vous être rentrée dedans dans la mer. hier j'ai dit à marie qu'elle avait un très joli chapeau et elle a commencé à me parler de son chapeau mexicain mais j'étais trop occupée à contempler le fait que j'étais en train de lui parler pour écouter ce qu'elle me disait. j'ai appris qu'elle avait 70 ans et que c'est elle qui avait entrainé seul au monde à aller se baigner toute l'année, même en plein hiver. seul au monde a la soixantaine et aux dernières nouvelles il sort toujours avec sophie, mais d'après c. ça va pas durer parce qu'elle a dit qu'elle le trouvait pas très drôle. dans le sens: il a de la place pour qu'une seule passion dans sa vie et c'est la mer, voilà mon avis, mais je sais pas si c'est ce qu'elle a voulu dire.

toujours à narbonne, la vie y est douce. ce matin j'ai fait un sondage sur instagram pour demander aux gens où je devrais déménager et de suite la fille qui était venue me parler à l'entracte de la soirée à la bellone m'a dit de venir à bruxelles avec un coeur et la vie avec instagram c'est bien aussi quand même. bruxelles est en tête mais c'est serré avec sète, suivi de marseille, puis berlin. je sais pas si cette histoire va m'aider à enfin sauter le pas. hier maman m'a appelée pour me dire qu'elle avait regardé les offres d'emploi à sète pour moi. j'ai enfin écrit à c. t. la dramaturge aussi, elle avait bien pensé à moi pour un projet mais depuis il est tombé à l'eau mais elle était trop occupée pour me prévenir. bon, au moins elle a pensé à moi.

28 septembre

de retour sur la plage, je viens de faire coucou à seul au monde en murmurant un petit au revoir imprégné de révérence comme si je m'adressais au grand maître de la mer. en attendant le bus à la gare d'agde une fille avec un sac à dos m'a demandé si le bus pour l'aéroport partait bien à 15h40, elle allait à edimbourg et elle ressemblait un peu à roberta colindrez. j'ai dit j'espère pour vous qu'il aura pas trop de retard et elle a dit oh c'est pas très grave si je rate mon vol, la vie est beaucoup plus belle ici qu'à edimbourg! et je me demande où elle était ces quatre dernières semaines. pourquoi elle était pas sur la plage avec moi? pourquoi y a que des retraités ++ sur la plage quand moi j'y suis? dans le bus tout le monde disait bonjour et au revoir et merci au chauffeur en rentrant et en sortant et il répondait avec plaisir quand on lui disait merci. j'étais toute contente de rentrer chez moi, chez moi à la mer, en sortant du bus. j'ai croisé l'homme hirsute qui habite dans la maison bric à brac avec le vieux bateau dans le jardin et il m'a fait un signe de tête discret et je lui ai fait un sourire discret et puis j'ai levé les bras en l'air de joie, je sais pas trop pourquoi.

[me-soltanto-me]

Versione sensualissima ...

LFDJ

[gaboushkabzbz]

J’écrirai ton prénom

Sur tous les murs du monde

J’inventerai des chansons

Jusqu’à ce que je m’inonde

De cet amour puissant

Incontrôlable et bruyant

Comme les amants

Qui s’aimaient et qui s’aiment

Plus profond que la terre

Plus loin que les prières

Je crierai mon amour

Au delà des frontières

Au delà de nos tombes

Et lorsque nous serons

D’étoiles simple poussières

Il y aura ces rivières

Ce chant vieux comme le monde

Et nos âmes au milieu

De la terre et des cieux

Nos ombres amoureuses

Encastrées jusqu’à l’aube

Brûlantes comme la lumière

C’est l’écho silencieux

d’un tremblement de terre

[bootyandgeekeries]

The chills, every single time....