Le verger en Lorraine [English translation]

All the blood shed

by the men in the plain

and all the departed

of uncertain causes

have allowed this orchard

to grow hundreds

of roses and apple trees

and marjoram too.

All those who cried

they were dying in vain,

all those who wept,

their foreheads in the grass,

all those who breathed

their last sigh there

have turned this orchard

on the Lorraine border

into a sweet loving cove

for lovers as spring comes.

All those thrown to the ground

before they could ever

say in wonder:

"Your eyes are the ones I love",

all these brides

who waited in vain,

these men torn away

from their coming weddings,

they all smile seeing

those who are brought by love

to the grass of this orchard

as their mouths unite.

All those who left behind

their ordinary love,

their limbs smashed,

their blood outside their veins,

all those we mourned

during bygone wars,

all those we forgot,

the nameless, the bohemian,

all rise up and sing

when carefree lovers

come by to share

the serene caress

they themselves were denied

for the sake of an old tune.

All the blood shed

by the men in the plain

and all the departed

of uncertain causes

have allowed this orchard

to grow hundreds

of roses and apple trees

and marjoram too,

have turned this orchard

on the Lorraine border

into a sweet loving cove

for lovers as spring comes.

• Artist:Barbara