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I may be in love, but cynically so



I hate to say it
but I say it nevertheless
that I get cynical
in thinking that I may be
in love with you

this story that I build
has a history to it
when I remember abstract things like
the movement of your eyes
when you looked at
your favorite dessert
while it rained
I believe that it would not be love
of the template, of the notion
of what it is
to be in love

Merely contemplating
and being nostalgic
are the constructs of
deep attachment, perhaps
is it love then?
or just a passing phase
or a yearning
just to see your face?

I have many other reasons to say
that it could not be love
as I am still searching the real meaning
in knowing who am I
If I am lost, what is love?
Is anyone capable of truly loving?

You are surely inspiring me
to write these words
this serendipity is baffling
on one hand I am still thinking
and being cynical
and on the other
I am transformed into
endless thoughts of calmness and compassion
when I think of you

will I think like this, forever
like a imbecilic philosopher?
or will I deconstruct this
phenomena of being enchanted?
what goes into my mind now?
when I neither deny
or accept
what is going into my mind?

by the end of this verse, am I still cynical?
maybe yes as I do not know who am I
when I think of you

Je déteste le dire
mais je le dis quand même
que je deviens cynique
en pensant que je peux être
amoureux de toi

 cette histoire que je construis
a une histoire à cela
quand je me souviens de choses abstraites comme
le mouvement de vos yeux
quand tu as regardé
ton dessert préféré
alors qu'il a plu
Je crois que ce ne serait pas de l'amour
du modèle, de la notion
de ce que c'est
être amoureux

 Contemplant simplement
et être nostalgique
sont les constructions de
attachement profond, peut-être
est-ce l'amour alors?
ou juste une phase passagère
ou un désir
juste pour voir ton visage?

 J'ai beaucoup d'autres raisons de dire
que ça ne pouvait pas être l'amour
comme je cherche toujours le vrai sens
en sachant qui je suis
Si je suis perdu, qu'est-ce que l'amour?
Quelqu'un est-il capable d'aimer vraiment?

 Tu m'inspires sûrement
écrire ces mots
cette sérendipité est déroutant
d'un côté je pense toujours
et être cynique
et de l'autre
Je suis transformé en
pensées infinies de calme et de compassion
quand je pense à toi

 vais-je penser comme ça, pour toujours
comme un philosophe imbécile?
ou vais-je déconstruire cette
phénomènes d'être enchanté?
Qu'est-ce qui me passe par la tête maintenant?
quand je ne nie pas
ou accepter
qu'est-ce qui me passe dans la tête?

 à la fin de ce verset, suis-je toujours cynique?
peut-être oui car je ne sais pas qui je suis
quand je pense à toi
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