Friday, 18 February 2011
the kiss in front of the Hôtel de Ville
They kiss, oh, they kiss, they kiss,
the young on the streets, in the bistros, on parapets
they kiss and kiss as if they were themselves
of the kiss
they kiss, oh, they kiss in the racing cars,
in the metro stations, in theaters,
in buses, they kiss with desperation,
with violence, as if,
at the end of the kiss, at the conclusion of the kiss, after the kiss,
the only thing to follow would be prescribed old age, and death.
they kiss, oh, they kiss, the thin young people
in love. So thin, as if
they were ignoring the existence of bread in this world.
so in love, as if, as if
they were ignoring the existence of world itself.
they kiss, oh, they kiss as if they were
in the dark, in the safest darkness
as if nobody saw them, as if
the sun would rise
their mouths, broken by the kiss and bleeding
would only be able to kiss
with their teeth.
The young, tr. by Cristina Hanganu-Bresch
if you want to see and hear it in Romanian, go to the translator's page and listen to the song there (included also a very interesting note on translation problems)