They Break the World

They break the world
into little peices
they break the world
with hammerblows
but it's all the same to me
it's all just the same to me.
There's enough left for me,
enough.
It's enough that I love
a blue feather
a road of sand
a skittish bird
It's enough that I love
the strands of fresh-cut grass
a drop of ruby wine
a splinter of wood.
They can break the world
into tiny peices.
There's enough left for me,
enough for me.
I will always have a little air
a litle slice of life
a little light - twinkling in my eye
a little wind in my veins.
And still, still
even if they put me in prison,
there will be enough for me.
It is enough that I love
this crumbling stone
these rivets of iron
stained with a little blood
I love it, I love it.
The warped boards beneath my bed
the thin mattress, the frame
the dust of the sun.
I love the Judas who opens himself
the men who have entered this place
who go forward, who take me along with them
to rediscover the life of this world
and to rediscover its colours
I love these two slow sums
this triangular knife
these men dressed in black.
This is my party and I am proud
I love it, I love it.
This basket full of sound
where I will rest my head,
oh, I love it for good.
It is enough that I love
a little strand of bluegrass
a drop of ruby wine
a love of a skittish bird.
They break the world
with rude hammers
but there's enough left for me
there's enough left for me, my love.
- Boris Vian (translation by me)