I die every night in your arms,
come alive everymorning without the pain of being born.
I'm invigorated, even though my eyes are dark.
I'm an eagle that soars on the warm current of your breath
A cold blooded snake who warms himself 'round your neck
My melody is measured by your beating heart
We're lucky,
we don't have to live up to the rules.
I can hear the accordion
and from our bed I can smell Europe.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love the idea of the smell of Europe. Brings back memories of sauerkraut, crepes, paella, darkly arabic coffee in a cafe in Monceaux-en-Bessin, Arromanches sea salt. Thank you for this.