She changed sheets at the hotel,
Finger marks on garbage cans,
Small swallow in the middle of crows,
She sang “Desperado”.
Me, I was late on sleep,
I had been overtaken by the sun;
She, on the other side of the corridor,
She made mirrors sings.
I spent one hour of her life,
One hour under the sun ofAlgeria,
Under the course of planets;
There are moments I regret…
Behind her half-closed eyelids,
I saw more grey than pink;
When I left, I understood well
That I was loosing something.
These children who don’t work in school
And who have pockets full of glue tubes…
Anyway, nobody helps you
When you are called Saïd or Mohamed.
It is the corrugated iron sky forever,
It is the window on the third yard,
It is the shout of the neighbors filling the ears
And the hours of bad sleep.
But, if somebody around understands
Bad French, Muslim,
Under the course of planets,
That would be good that he worries
Before his eyelids explode
And take this grey in overdose.
When I left I understood well
That we could do something there…
You, you send ten dollars
For the children of the Gange,
Because you saw disturbing pictures.
You send ten dollars
For the children from elsewhere,
Because you saw frightening pictures.
And she that you meet down your home…
She that you meet down your home…
Since I returned to Marseille,
Her friends have no news,
There’s too many swallows,
Or too many crows
She must have change ghetto.
Me, I rather believe that she
Change sheets in another hotel,
Other finger marks
On other garbage cans,
On the other side of another corridor,
She must make mirrors sing…