Ces petits riens

It's better to think of nothing
Than not to think at all
Nothing is already
Nothing is already a lot
We remember nothing
And since we forget everything
Nothing is much better
Nothing is much better than everything

It's better to think of nothing
Than to think of you
It means nothing to me
It means absolutely nothing to me
But as if nothing had happened, I think of all
I'm thinking of everyone
These little things
Which came to me from you

If it were nothing at all
Three times nothing between us
Obviously
It's not much
It's these little nothings
That I've put together
These little things
Which came to me from you

It's better to cry over nothing
Than to laugh at everything
Crying over nothing
Is already a lot
But you have nothing
In your heart and I confess
I envy you
I resent you deeply

It's these little nothings
Which came to me from you
Do you want them?
Here! What do you want?
I don't want anything
Nothing of you remains in the world
To belong to you
You have to be half-mad