Engl. Trans  Hostettler  Chanson du soir

When your cheeks turn pink
large roadside trees,
the sun is setting
behind the garden,
the heron lands.
I should like to speak to you,
but the words are weary.
In order to know what I am thinking,
listen to the birds flying by.
The herons gather in the sky,
the children call to each other,
the tree trembles in the sun
which shines red behind the roofs.
Above you, flowers and scents, the night will come.
I should like to speak to you,
but the words are almost nothing.
In order to know, with closed mouth,
I listen to time passed by.