Je crois à la magie
Magie de la vie
Magie de la vie
Magie de la vie
Oh, my poet, come and tell us
How did life shape your verses?
What are the lines that circulate you?
Oh, my poet, come and dance with us
Do you tend to mistake the colors
That compose your very own form?
But when you fail to find meaning
(Je crois à la magie)
You know how to create one from
(Magie de la vie)
The raw material life gives to you and
(Magie de la vie)
Oh, my poet, come and dance with us now
(Magie de la vie)
Through the movement against air
You've composed your own blurred shape
Making yourself intangible
To one's hands and the sorrows of life
And in the ambiguity
Of the described motion
Dancing, running
Both got mixed
In a subjective eternity
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