Idiote, Je T'Aime

I've always been too modest
To let these often cheesy expressions
Run on my lips
Inscribed in the dictionary of happiness

I know you would like
My breath to be poetic
But if I were more romantic
Tell me what would change

Idiot, I love you
Idiot, I love you
Idiot, I love you

In my own way, in my own fashion
Since the time we've been living
Even bohemian and carefree

Idiot, I love you
Idiot, I love you

And I forbid you to doubt it
Idiot, I love you
Like I've never loved before

I've never had the talent
To use, I admit
These worn-out words
Overused by more than one lover

But I have phrases at my fingertips
That at night address your body
And when they speak, they caress
They do it much better than my voice

Idiot, I love you
Idiot, I love you
Idiot, I love you

With trembling hand, in veiled words
When on the parchment of your skin
I engrave my most beautiful poems
I love you, I love you, I love you

Idiot, I love you
Idiot, I love you

And even though I'm clumsy
Idiot, I love you
And will never love anyone but you