The moon is full, we're going up this evening with Beausoleil.
It will be light at the bottom of the big wood.
Already? the men are tired,
Winter is over? we were not able to find accommodation.
More and more we talk about Louisiana.
It was nothing but a dream that we called there Acadia.
Spear of fire, knife of love.
Look into the eyes of a lover
See only pain.
Would that? t? better if it never would have happened.
It was nothing but a dream called love.
Battle for the blue sky
br/>A vulture against a dove.
Deadly flight stripe,
Sharp claw, armored beak.
It was as if all our chances
were d ?j? prisoners,
Like the sentence you throw at me,
Like the love we found.
Dove blood in its claws,
Vulture mouth full of burns.
Eyes full of fear,
The dove that trembles pure.
When in the high sky an eagle,
Prepares its wings for the descent.
br/>In his eternal gesture,
He launches his fires,
He takes revenge.
The rich harvest, the flowery valley
The buchane on the path? es.
The quiet village,
The children playing in the sun.
The ashes of the trees,
The stones of the earth were all in mourning.
It was nothing but a dream called freedom?

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