Les Marquises
Jacques Brel
The Marquesas
They talk about death
Like you talk
About a fruit
They look at the sea
Like you look at a well
The women are the onions
In the feared sun
And if there is no winter
It is not summer
The rain is transverse
It beats from grain to grain
Some old white horses
Humming Gauguin
And for lack of breeze
Time stands still
In the Marquesas
From the evening rise fires
And tips of silence
That widen
And the moon advances
And the sea tears apart
Infinitely broken
By rocks that took
Frantic names
And then further dogs
Chants of repentance
Some duets
And some dances
And the night is submissive
And the trade wind breaks
In the Marquesas
Laughter is in the heart
The word in the gaze
The heart is a traveler
The future is random
And coconut trees pass by
Writing love songs
That the sisters around
Ignore
To ignore
The canoes go
The canoes come
And my memories become
What the old make of them
Do you want me to say
To moan is not appropriate
In the Marquesas
