The islander

L'an passé, à bord, j'écoutais cette mélodie avant de m'endormir.

Elle a pour moi un parfum de berceuse marine. Les roulements incessants du navire me reviennent, avec l'odeur du sel, le chant des vagues et le bleu grisonnant de la mer s'étendant jusqu'à l'infini sous un ciel mouillé de pluie.

An old man by a seashore at the end of day
Gazes the horizon with seawinds in his face
Tempest-tossed island seasons all the same
Anchorage unpainted and a ship without a name

Sea without a shore for the banished one unheard
He lightens the beacon, light at the end of world
Showing the way lighting hope in their hearts
The ones on their travels homeward from afar

This is for long-forgotten
Light at the end of the world
Horizon crying
The tears he left behind long ago

The albatross is flying making him daydream
The time before he became one of the world's unseen
Princess in the tower children in the fields
Life gave him it all an island of the universe

Now his love's a memory a ghost in the fog
He sets the sails one last time saying farewell to the world
Anchor to the water seabed far below
Grass still in his feet and a smile beneath his brow

This is for long-forgotten
Light at the end of the world
Horizon crying
The tears he left behind long ago

So long ago...
so long ago...