Ma femme

You're the child I never wanted,
You're the mother I won't have one day,
You're the friend that bards talk about,
My woman,
You're all those I haven't loved:
Twenty years of fear, no smoke without fire,
And this fragile fire, I keep it for you,
My woman,
And then, speaking in terms of marriage,
We don't resemble those people
Who marry and stay silent,
Habit may court us,
But our little home in the courtyard
Seeks the sea and its cliffs...
You're the child who sobs and falls asleep,
That white bird that returns to the North,
You're the bird of warmth and feathers,
My woman,
You're the lioness who watches over the young
Who belong to others, not her own - as they say -
You're the loving and fearsome lioness,
My woman,
And then, zoologically speaking,
We don't resemble those clans
That are tamed and appeased,
Habit may court us,
But our little Kenya in the courtyard
Seeks its jungle and its Zambezi...
You're the strange child who insists
On preferring humans to animals,
You're the child who always believes in the World,
My woman,
You're the mouth of the poor that is silenced,
The raised fist of the disabled, the rebels,
You're the Hope that beats and roars,
My woman,
And then, socially speaking,
We don't resemble those Durands
Who crow, who speak like Marseille locals,
Habit may court us,
But our little homeland in the courtyard
Is an old path in Corrèze...
You're the child begging in the dark:
"Please, tell me a story,
The one where the wolf didn't eat the goat..."
My woman,
And I whisper: Once upon a time...
And there you go, off into the woods,
Little goat clinging to your dream,
My woman,
And then, simply put,
We're like those children
Who warm up and enjoy each other,
Habit may court us,
But our little happiness in the courtyard
Hides between its parentheses...
You're the child I never wanted,
You're the mother I won't have one day,
You're the friend that bards talk about,
My woman!