one afternoon there, in rue du jourdain,
we can say that we were happy,
sitting on the terrace of the café opposite
we could see our apartment.
I don't know if we were silent
or if we were talking quietly there in the café downstairs,
but I can see the table very clearly and your hands,
the tea, the coffee and the sugar on the side.
then suddenly it's gone, everything collapsed,
we didn't quite understand, everything continued,
while between us the balance was slipping away,
never quiet again, we fell off the line.
that after At midday there, in rue du Jourdain,
in fact everything was not going so well,
sitting on the terrace of the café opposite
we could see our apartment,
so sad finally with us in it
(Unofficial English Translation)
an afternoon there, on rue du jourdain,
you could say that youâd been well,
sitting on the terrace of the café
that you could see across from our apartment.
i donât remember anymore if weâd sat in silence
or if weâ d whispered down there at the café,
but i recall quite well the table and your hands,
the tea, the coffee, and the sugar on the side.
it left a wound , so very crushing,
you didnât understand, the world spun past us,
but between us, balance fled,
never again peaceful, weâd fallen from the wire.
that afternoon there, on rue du jourdain,
could not have gone well,
sitting on the terrace of the café
that you could see across from our apartment...
we, miserably, inside.

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