Le 15 juillet à 5 heures [English translation]

Your voice whispers

Gentle and assured

Like an old record that we listen to

With a glass of whisky in our hand.

Under the conservatory we sit down

In the muted sound of sandals

In front of a flowerbed

July fifteenth at five a.m

Wind wears itself out on the store room

Where finally my piano falls asleep

After a night of sorrow

Under the umbrella of leaves

Wind browses page by page

The book of our happiness

July fifteenth at five a.m

In Frédérique’s house

You have sorted some books

You have placed some flowers

Picked fresh this morning

In your hand a sizzling cigarette

We eat some melon

Apart from the song of hornets

We have nothing left in our heads

In Frédérique’s house

Dazzled like two children

You are telling me about your old lovers

And myself about my former mistresses

You bite into some very tender grapes

Some heavy inky grapes

I’ll make coffee later

July fifteenth at five a.m

Almost imaginary

You are so beautiful

Between my eyelashes you appear

Like a lady from a long time ago

Whom I loved somewhere else, maybe

I have to write a letter

To an old friend who is dying

July fifteenth at five a.m

Tomorrow, it is sad

The life of an artist

We will go back to life we had before

The apartment where we get bored

We will invite Frédérique

My brothers, your sisters, the whole gang

Only a smell will be left

Of July fifteenth at five a.m...

• Artist:Serge Lama