Il me demande et il me dit
Ensemble on va faire les choses extraordinaires
Il me regards pas.
Il me dit pas, mais j’écoute lui.
Je lui plais? Je ne sais pas.
Il me plait ? Je crois
Je sais d’aimer
Je sais de coucher.
Mais je ne sais pas rien de faire l’amour
Lately I have been thinking a lot about sex and love in relation to each other, why we tent to combine the two when they are in fact two separate things. Something is of a bodily nature and something belongs to what is beyond, but we still combine them into the monogamous romantic relationship.
I have a hard time getting my thoughts together on this subject. I know my point of view but I still can’t justify it completely, I can’t even explain it very well not even to my self. Therefore I thought I would try and put it into the form of a poem. Maybe it is not a poem; maybe it is just a gathering of thoughts. But then isn’t that what poetry is? To express something deep and quite not figured out in a very simple fashion, and then leave the rest up to the reader?
I have never really written poetry before but it came naturally to me, also to write this in French. I realize that sometimes philosophers are trying to put their thoughts on a higher level by using words that no ordinary man will understand. I know that I sometimes try to increase the use of “difficult” words when I write because I think it will be more expressive. But what if the language can be simple and still explain? What if all we really need is a simple language to explain our most profound thoughts? That is why it came naturally to write it in French, I didn’t attempt to do it in neither Danish nor English or German. There are simply too many words I can choose from. So instead I resort to a language I don’t master where I can only speak so much; to keep it simple and not with great difficulty but because it is my only capability.