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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required La route, c’est traverser l’Amérique, mille fois, C’est un idéal, qu’on ne réalise que parce qu’on est en vie, C’est un rêve qu’on poursuit dans une voiture, C’est des montagnes qui barrent l’horizon mauve et rose. C’est résoudre des équations du troisième et quatrième degré ? La route c’est l’amour qu’on tient entre ses mains, C’est des palmiers, qu’on salue avec son chapeau, C’est des motels où l’on dort avec ses nouveaux amis, C’est un grand Lynx qui se cache dans le désert texan. La route c’est le sable et les diamants, les serpents, C’est la station Texaco où l’on remplit le moteur, C’est l’imagination que l’on dresse avec un fouet, C’est l’ennui qui nous sauve du travail saoulant, Tout est possible quand on prend la route, tout. Même le temps s’arrête....La route sauve nos âmes. La route is to cross America, a thousand times, It is an ideal, which we realize only because we are alive, It’s a dream that we pursue in a car, It is mountains that block the purple and pink horizon. It Is solving third and fourth degree equations La route is love that we hold in our hands, It is palm trees, which one salutes with his hat, It’s motels where you sleep with your new friends, It is a large lynx hiding in the Texas desert. La route is sand and diamonds, rattle snakes, This is the Texaco station where we fill the engine, It is the imagination that is raised with a whip, It is the boredom that saves us from drunken work, Everything is possible when you take the road, everything. Even time stands still.... La route saves our souls.
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