At the Bottom of Mont Blanc
Smiling of this dazing flower
Sheds pearl at mind
O dear! O dear! O dear!
DO-RE-MI-FA-SO-LA-TI
O flower you tell me
Why smiling of dear is so sweet?
Listening is plunged in waterfall flows
Sun sets in lap of cloud
Guard I am die at tap of my dear
O dear! Grasp my hand
Let’s go to heaven across the blue sky
Where the dear men like the flower in form of death
Cursed love wouldn’t be arranged
If thy wouldn’t follow the evil
Expelled from heaven this hell- love I love
Love brighter this Paris city
Entire star’s light is desire of affection
Youth of heaven rises by murmuring of la Seine
Let highest pick of Alps
Be awaken at Mont Blanc
Let wake up the prowess of making love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem