Memory of France

Together with me recall: the sky of Paris, that giant autumn crocus...

We went shopping for hearts at the flower girl's booth:
they were blue and they opened up in the water.

It began to rain in our room,
and our neighbour came in.

Monsieur Le Songe, a lean little man.

We played cards,

I lost the irises of my eyes;
you lent me your hair,

I lost it, he struck us down.

He left by the door, the rain followed him out.

We were dead and were able to breathe.