I thought I would grow by your side
back in that Paris that we made ours
even though I expected
to build it up on my own
and become one of the old trees from Monceau.
I did not even spend my days there, wondering,
as I had dreamed of when I first passed by,
way before you came into my way.
With no notice in advance,
you became tree and gardener.
Why did I even let you have that power
if you were not even strong enough?
Why did I let you go deep into my roots
and change the direction of those branches
that were frozen in the mist of a city
with lights that banished away,
cause I let them go?
And you turned into water and wind,
my source of life,
the invisible strings that pushed my by,
backwards and forwards.
I guess I did not believe I could be one of those trees,
and that may have be the reason
I let you in at first,
opening the doors of the Lutece
I had already been designing,
And now, that I am back home,
left with no Paris,
I look for my own water supplies
and I play with the wind,
I am not afraid anymore.
The breeze may be too strong for me at times,
but at least now there are no wires,
no ropes holding me tight,
cause I am roots and branches,
a whole brand new tree.
I now decide whether I grow south or north,
facing east or west,
by the memories of that Monceau
in my own Paris,
now that I am home,
for the first time.
by my side.
Builder, gardener, tree, dreamer…