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Weapons

Weapons, funny weapons, shinny weapons,
Weapons we have to clean often just for fun
And that we caress as if only for fun
The other, him who makes the devotes dream…
 
Weapons blue like the earth,
Weapons we have to keep buried deep in our souls
In the eyes, in the heart, in the arms of a woman,
We keep within ourselves as we keep a secret
 
Weapons in the secrecy of the days
Under the grass, in the sky and in the scriptures,
Weapons that make you dream late at night when you read,
And that turns speeches into poetry
 
Weapons, weapons, weapons,
And poets working for the triggers,
To light the last cigarettes
At the end of a French verse… bright as a tear
Weapons, weapons...weapons….
 
Πρωτότυποι στίχοι

Des armes

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Noir Désir: Κορυφαία 3
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evfokasevfokas    Παρ, 08/06/2012 - 10:16

Thank you for the translation but I had to move it here 'cause you had created a double entry. Keep up the good work and please take care when posting to avoid double entries