Être
Charles Aznavour
Being
Being, reborn my birth
In a dawn of chalk
Under the blood moon
At the end of a dying winter
Being, emerging from silence
Seeing my heart's frost
Shine in the sun
Omen of a better spring
Being the fruit and the seed
In a depleted soil
And bloom in exile
Like a tree bursting in April
Being, learning to know myself
Keeping my eyes open
And being nothing but a being
Of flesh
To love until death
And maybe beyond
Being the soul separated from the body
To love until death
Even beyond still
Being, escaping the blackmail
Of all clichés
Extinguishing my volcanoes
Taming and riding my time
Being the gesture that commits
The future reimagined
Craftsman of the return
To the simple ritual of love
Being, dying to be reborn
From the lies of the past
And being nothing but a being
Alive
To love until death
And maybe beyond
Being the soul separated from the body
To love until death
Even beyond still
