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No, my friend Paul, it’s not about saying everything, And we do not lack time, But the point is to say what you love, to love what you say, Like a saxophone solo in a New York club, To say that there are people who have heart, to say that others do not, To think we’re alone in the night, when nobody think about you, To say that samba created the world in seven days and seven nights That she is the soul of Brazil, and that we cannot get tired of music All is to say everything, you say my friend, I believe That the main thing is to say what you love, who you love, Calm and tranquility away from the violence of the cities Listen to the sea, away from thieves, thugs, pretentious Of all kinds, Learn the names of the stars, to find a little piece of love, No, my friend Paul, the whole thing is not to say everything, but to love What they say to shooting stars, To love time as a gift from God, a wild lion, a circus tent, Like a saxophone solo, in a New York club When someone cares about you in the deep night. PS, Paul Eluard was the poet who made me want to write, obviously all this can only be imaginary, thanks to all these poets who inspire us with their genius Non, mon ami Paul, Le tout n’est pas de tout dire, Et l‘on ne manque pas de temps, Mais le tout est de dire ce que l’on aime, d’aimer ce que l’on dit, Comme un solo de saxophone dans un club new yorkais, Dire qu’il y a des gens qui ont du cœur, dire que d’autres n’en ont pas, Dire qu’on est seul dans la nuit, quand personne Ne pense à vous, Dire que la samba a créé le monde en sept jours et sept nuits Qu’elle est l’âme du Brésil, et qu’on ne peut se lasser de la musique Le tout est de tout dire, dis-tu mon ami, moi je crois Que l’essentiel est de dire ce qu’on aime, qui on aime, Le calme et la tranquillité loin de la violence des cités Écouter la mer, loin des voleurs, des truands, des prétentieux De tout poil, Apprendre le nom des étoiles, pour retrouver un peu d’amour, Non, mon ami Paul, le tout n’est pas de tout dire, mais d’aimer Ce que l’on dit aux étoiles filantes, D’aimer le temps comme un don de Dieu, un lion sauvage, un chapiteau de cirque, Comme un solo de saxophone, dans un club new yorkais Quand quelqu’un pense à vous dans la nuit profonde. PS, Paul Eluard a été le poète qui m’a donné envie d'écrire, évidemment tout ceci ne peut être qu'imaginaire, merci à tous ces poètes qui nous inspirent par leur génie
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