In a square on a bench
There’s a man who calls you when you pass
He has eyeglasses and old grey clothes
He smokes a little cigarillo
He is seated
And he calls you when you pass
Or simply makes you a sign
Don’t look at him
Don’t listen to him
Pass by
Make as if you didn’t see him
As if you didn’t hear him
Pass by hurry past
If you look at him
If you listen to him
He makes you a sign and nothing nobody
Can stop you from going to sit near him
So then he looks at you and smiles
And you suffer atrociously
And the man continues to smile
And you smile the same smile
Exactly
The more you smile the more you suffer
Atrociously
The more you suffer the more you smile
Irremediably
And you stay there
Seated fixed
Smiling on the bench
Children play near you
Passerby pass
Tranquilly
Birds fly off
Leaving one tree for another
And you stay there
On the bench
And you know you know
You never again will play
Like these children
You know you never again will pass
Tranquilly
Like these passerby
Never again fly
Leaving one tree for another
Like these birds.
Jacques Prevert (Paroles, 61)
