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“I write to tell you that I love you That my heart travels every day That I was cold with grief Afraid of being alone And to disappear tomorrow. I write to tell you that I love you That everything will end in your arms That one day my heart was lost In his pain That I thought he had stopped That it took you to resume it I write to tell you that I love you That you are all I have of horizon That you will see Our children sing in the tall grass And soon the spring will rise by the windows I write to tell you that I love you That for this appointment of beginning or end It is with you that I want to breathe, Don’t you see, I live in the orphaned space That your hands create.” — Emmanuelle Soni-Dessaigne
I write to tell you that I love you
That my heart travels every day
That I was cold with grief
Afraid of being alone
And to disappear tomorrow.
I write to tell you that I love you
That everything will end in your arms
That one day my heart was lost
In his pain
That I thought he had stopped
That it took you to resume it
I write to tell you that I love you
That you are all I have of horizon
That you will see
Our children sing in the tall grass
And soon the spring will rise by the windows
I write to tell you that I love you
That for this appointment of beginning or end
It is with you that I want to breathe,
Don’t you see,
I live in the orphaned space
That your hands create.