Barbara - Le verger en Lorraine Лирицс транслатион то енглисх

The orchard in Lorraine

All the blood shed
by the men in the plain
and all the departed
of uncertain causes
have allowed this orchard
to grow hundreds
of roses and apple trees
and marjoram too.
 
All those who cried
they were dying in vain,
all those who wept,
their foreheads in the grass,
all those who breathed
their last sigh there
have turned this orchard
on the Lorraine border
into a sweet loving cove
for lovers as spring comes.
 
All those thrown to the ground
before they could ever
say in wonder:
'Your eyes are the ones I love',
all these brides
who waited in vain,
these men torn away
from their coming weddings,
they all smile seeing
those who are brought by love
to the grass of this orchard
as their mouths unite.
 
All those who left behind
their ordinary love,
their limbs smashed,
their blood outside their veins,
all those we mourned
during bygone wars,
all those we forgot,
the nameless, the bohemian,
all rise up and sing
when carefree lovers
come by to share
the serene caress
they themselves were denied
for the sake of an old tune.
 
All the blood shed
by the men in the plain
and all the departed
of uncertain causes
have allowed this orchard
to grow hundreds
of roses and apple trees
and marjoram too,
have turned this orchard
on the Lorraine border
into a sweet loving cove
for lovers as spring comes.
 


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