♪♪
♪♪
We
will walk where there are no paths
and our steps will know the earth.
We will look at the horizon
to which they have torn the sun
with the excuse of war.
We will bow one to one
towards the blind mirror.
Our shadow will get tired of us.
And so we will meet the image
that belongs to us,
the image of the Other.
And we will toast the beauty of the margins
to the beauté des marges.
They
will call us with an unknown name and it is then that we will answer,
avoiding the words that we did not know how to say,
perhaps choosing silence.
We will look for a reason at the end of everything,
finding traces of a principle.
We will look for emotion for the end of everything,
finding traces of the principle.
And we will toast the beauty of the margins to the beauté des marges.
And we will toast the beauty of the margins to the beauté des marges.
We will wait for something that must not come,
that will never come.
And we will arrive when we would not have expected,
if we will arrive, who knows?
In the endless and unsatisfied waiting we
will discover that we have not waited in vain.
In the astonished and satisfied waiting I will
discover that I have not waited for you in vain.
And we will toast the beauty of the margins to the beauté des marges.