<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"><channel><title>Lyrics</title><link>https://jwheel.org/tags/lyrics/</link><description>Homepage of Justin Wheeler, an Open Source contributor and Free Software advocate from Georgia, USA.</description><generator>Hugo -- gohugo.io</generator><language>en-us</language><managingEditor>Justin Wheeler</managingEditor><lastBuildDate>Tue, 18 Oct 2011 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://jwheel.org/rss/tags/lyrics/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Echoes of Mine (M83)</title><link>https://jwheel.org/lyrics/m83/echoes-of-mine/</link><pubDate>Tue, 18 Oct 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>https://jwheel.org/lyrics/m83/echoes-of-mine/</guid><description><![CDATA[<div class="sect1">
<h2 id="francais">Français</h2>
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<div class="quoteblock">
<blockquote>
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<p>Il est tard.
Je cherche à rentrer chez moi, et je prends un chemin que je ne connais pas, un petit sentier qui longe les usines et la ville en coupant par la forêt.
Je commence à peine à entrevoir la nature, lorsque tout d’un coup, la nuit tombe.
Je suis plongée dans le noir et le silence.
Pourtant, je n’ai pas peur. Je m’endors, quelques minutes tout au plus, et quand je me réveille, le soleil est là, et la forêt brille d’une lumière éclatante.</p>
</div>
<div class="paragraph">
<p>Je reconnais cette forêt.
Ce n’est pas une forêt ordinaire.
C’est une forêt de souvenirs.
Mes souvenirs.
Cette rivière blanche et sonore, mon adolescence.
Ces grands arbres, les hommes que j’ai aimés.
Cet oiseau qui vole, au loin, mon père disparu.
Mes souvenirs ne sont plus des souvenirs, ils sont là, vivants, près de moi, ils dansent et m’enlacent, chantent et me sourient.</p>
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<div class="paragraph">
<p>Je regarde mes mains, je caresse mon visage, j’ai 20 ans, et j’aime comme je n’ai jamais aimé.</p>
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<div class="sect1">
<h2 id="english-human">English (<em>Human-translated</em>)</h2>
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<p><a href="https://web.archive.org/web/20171001211423/http://lyricstranslate.com/en/echoes-mine-echoes-mine.html">See original translations</a>.</p>
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<blockquote>
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<p>It’s late.
I’m searching for my other home, and I’m taking a path I don’t know: a little path that runs alongside the factories and the city intersecting through the forest.
I’m just starting to get a glimpse of nature, when all of a sudden, night falls.
I’m immersed in a world of silence, though I’m not scared.
I fall asleep a few minutes, at most; and when I wake up, the sun is there and the forest shines a radiant light.</p>
</div>
<div class="paragraph">
<p>I know this forest.
It’s not an ordinary forest, it’s a forest of memories.
My memories.
This white and resonant river, my adolescence.
These big trees, the men I’ve loved.
These birds that fly, in the distance, my lost father.
My memories are no longer memories.
They’re here, alive, close to me, they dance and embrace me, sing and smile at me.</p>
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<div class="paragraph">
<p>I look at my hands. I caress my face, and I’m twenty years old. And I love like I’ve never loved before.</p>
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<div class="sect1">
<h2 id="english-google">English (<em>Google Translate</em>)</h2>
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<blockquote>
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<p>It is late.
I try to go home, and I take a road I do not know, a small path along the factories and the city cutting through the forest.
I just beginning to understand the nature, when all of a sudden, night falls.
I plunged into darkness and silence.
Yet I am not afraid.
I fell asleep a few minutes at most, and when I woke up, the sun is there, and the forest shines a bright light.</p>
</div>
<div class="paragraph">
<p>I recognize that forest.
This is no ordinary forest.
It is a forest of memories.
My memories.
This white noise and river, my adolescence.
These tall trees, the men I loved.
This bird flying in the distance, my father disappeared.
My memories are not memories, they are there, living near me, hug me and they dance, sing and smile at me.</p>
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<div class="paragraph">
<p>I look at my hands, I stroked my face, I’m twenty, and I love like I never loved.</p>
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</blockquote>
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