My only child & All That Is My Own in "La cicatrice intérieure" de Philippe Garrel.
MY ONLY CHILD
My only child be not so blind
See what you hold
There are no words no ears no eyes
To show them what you know
Their hands are old
Their faces cold
Their bodies close to freezing
Their feelings find
The morning small
Too small to fill their ways with breathing
The evening tall
My only child remember well
The words that you are told
For some of them it is only easy to survive
Their hands are old
Their faces cold
Their bodies close to freezing
Their feelings find
The morning small
The evening tall
Man and wife are feasting the time
The time that lies behind
At home in sweetness and delight
Drinking the bitter wine
Their hands are old
Their faces cold
Their bodies close to freezing
Their feelings find
The morning small
The evening tall
ALL THAT IS MY OWN
Your winding winds stood so
All that is my own
Where land and water meet
Where on my soul I sit upon my bed
Your ways have led me to bleed
Every child will be able to weep
Every wise man spoke of him
Every keeper will be sleeper
And a guide to ways unsure
Your winding winds did sow
All that is my own
Where land and water meet
Where on my soul
I sit upon my bed
Your ways have led me to bleed
He who knows may pass on
The word unknown
And meet me on the desertshore
Meet me on the desertshore
Your winding winds did sow
All that is my own
Where land and water meet
Where on my soul
I sit upon my bed
Your ways have led me to bleed
He who knows may pass on
The word unknown
And meet me on the desertshore
Meet me on the desertshore
Meet me on the desertshore
Your winding winds stood so
All that is my own
Where land and water meet
Where on my soul
I sit upon my bed
Your ways have led me to bleed
He who knows may pass on the word I know
And meet me on the desertshore
Meet me on the desertshore
Your winding winds did sow
All that is my own
Where land and water meet
Where on my soul
I sit upon my bed
Your ways have led me to bleed
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