One close to the other, they were there,
Both sitting, as if asleep
At the edge of the wooden bench
In the waiting room.
br/>Through the window, we could see
The old carousel which creaked
And its music swirled
In the waiting room,
And this music seemed push
The big hand of the clock
With an excessive noise,
Disproportionate? and ridiculous
And this clock obsessed them,
This clock which looked at them,
This clock which swirled
In the waiting room,
And in their head was sliding,
Carousel, music, pendulum...
The clock became merry-go-round,
The merry-go-round became pendulum,
And their memories , in procession,
Went back, paraded, flew away...
One near the other they were there,
Both seated, as if asleep
At the edge of the wooden bench
In the waiting room
And when the train arrived,
They both looked at each other
And without a word they got up,
In the waiting room,
And in their heads, it slipped:
Present, past, man age...
The memories became present.
The present became a memory...
And their words, in procession,
Hesitated, were confused, flew away.
When he got on the train,
It was she who noticed it
And came running back
In the waiting room
But the train had disappeared...
Don't you think it's stupid,
A woman walking in the street
With a haversack and a cap?
It's stupid!...
It's stupid!...
...It's stupid!