Brent-Heighton, After the Rain


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Your legacy (Ton héritage)

If you love the rainy nights,
читать дальшеMy child, my child,
The streets of Italy
And the steps of passers-by,
The eternal litanies
Of dead leaves in the wind
Giving their last cry,
Then cry, my child.

If you love the clouds,
My child, my child,
Bathing at the midnight
In the grand ocean,
If you love the hard life,
Your reflection in the pond,
If you want your friends
Close to you all the time

If you pray when the night falls,
My child, my child,
If you don't bring flowers to the graves,
But miss the departed,
If you fear the bombs
And the too large sky,
If you talk to your shadow
From time to time

If you love the low-tide,
My child, my child,
The sun on the terrace
And the moon under the wind
If you sometimes lose your trace
In time of spring
If the life sometimes exceeds you,
Then pass on, my child

You are not to blame,
It's your legacy
And it will only get worse
When you will be my age
You are not to blame
It's your flesh, your blood,
You will need to do with it
Or, better, without

If you forget surnames,
Addresses and ages,
But almost never the sound
Of a voice or a face
If you love what is good
If you see mirages
If your prefer Paris
When the storm comes

If you love the bitter tastes
And all-white winters
If you love the last glasses
And troubling mysteries
If you love feeling the earth
And volcanoes erupting
If you fear the void
Then empty yourself, my child

You are not to blame,
It's your legacy
And it will only get worse
When you will be my age
You are not to blame
It's your flesh, your blood,
You will need to do with it
Or, better, without

If you love leaving before
My child, my child,
Before the other awakes
Before he leaves you
If you fear the sleep
And the time passing
If you love the orange autumn,
Wonder, red blood

If you fear the crowds
But bear the people
If your ideals crumble
In the evening of your twenties
If nothing happens
As you planned it
If you are nothing but a rolling stone,
Then roll, my child...