Today we ought to,
Like in a play or a book,
Burst into serenade,
Rousing all the neighborhood dogs.
But a little thing is missing:
No ear, no voice.
And you—oh, how you’d flaunt yourself
Beneath the lavish flowers.
But how to push through to them?
Time? Try it yourself!
I’d give my darling a dress,
A miracle dress by Dior!
But with this salary
I’d collapse right by the fence.
Ah, I’d give my heart to her!
Yes, I would. But what’s the use?
Better I give a bar of soap:
Snatched the last one from the shelf,
Or even some powder,
Rare, precious laundry powder,
So she could look just right
From her moral height.
But she gazes sadly,
As if to say, “Men have grown petty
From life’s trivialities.”
No, we’re not so simple.
For your beauty’s sake
We’ll find the flowers,
Chase away the shadows with our hats,
And gift you… this day.