It is like convalescence
One has measured strength and growing capabilities
It is not yet possible for me to pass
The restaurant on the Galleries des Prince
Where we met beginning our first summer.
Nor can I walk the Grand Place where
Under one star your head on my arm
I had promised you I would be younger.
Nor sit on the terrace
My youth lurking in the winds beyond
Where you first asked me a question
However I can now find strength
To rub the arm of the bronze lady
Near Les Cygnes where we began our ending.
And even look at the fountain in the bois
Where you once stood in rainbow
Soon I may enter Saint Michael's
Where first I counted years and possibilities
Perhaps I may soon be well enough
To try the bar on your old corner
Where I had a beer and combed my hair
And waited when I had come to Zodiaque
These things take a natural time
It is not yet clear whether there may not
Always be some limiting lingering weakness
Relapses from time to time
Some things that will always remain impossible to do.