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After the Lunch
[A poem by Wendy Cope (born 1945)]


On Waterloo Bridge, where we said our goodbyes,
The weather conditions bring tears to my eyes.
I wipe them away with a black woolly glove
And try not to notice I've fallen in love.

On Waterloo Bridge I am trying to think:
This is nothing. You're high on the charm and the drink.
But the juke-box inside me is playing a song
That says something different. And when was it wrong?

On Waterloo Bridge with the wind in my hair
I am tempted to skip. You're a fool. I don't care.
The head does its best but the heart is the boss.
I admit it before I am halfway across.


[interpretation in French*]
Sur le pont de Waterloo, où nous nous sommes dit au revoir
Les conditions météo me mettent les larmes aux yeux
Je les essuie d’un doigt ganté de laine noir
Et tente d’ignorer que je suis tombé amoureux.

Sur le pont de Waterloo, j’essaie de me raisonner :
Ce n’est rien... Tu es sous le charme et puis, tu as trop bu.
Mais le juke-box dans mon cœur chantonne un air connu,
une toute autre histoire. Et s’est-il jamais trompé?

Sur le pont de Waterloo, le vent dans les cheveux
J’ai envie de sautiller de joie. Mais tu es fou... Non, je m’en fous.
Après tout, la tête fait ce qu’elle peut, mais c’est le cœur qui commande.
Je me l’admets enfin, arrivé à mi-chemin...



*As Wendy Cope is a woman, I imagine a pro translation would use the feminine for adjectives, but since this is a personal fun project, I decided not to struggle too long and rimes were easier with masculine...