Sur la route de Saint-Tropez, Mimosa Monsieur, mimosa Madame Sur la route de Saint-Tropez, De Saint-Tropez à La Ciotat, Cueillez le mimosa, Cueillez-le pour l’offrir aux dames.

On the way from St Tropez, Mimosa Sir, Mimosa Ma’am, On the way from St Tropez, Cull mimosas round the bay, Cull them closer to Marseille, Offer the ladies this bouquet.

Trois cent millions de papillons Sont arrivés à Châtillon Afin d’y boire du bouillon, Châtillon-sur-Loire, Châtillon-sur-Marne, Châtillon-sur-Seine. Plaignez les gens de Châtillon! Ils n’ont plus d'yeux dans leur bouillon Mais des millions de papillons. Châtillon-sur-Seine, Châtillon-sur-Marne, Châtillon-sur-Loire.

Butterflies in billions Browse on broths of brilliance, Bouillons of ebullience Brewed by Newcastilians, Some Upon Tyne, some-under-Lyme, Britons! and Australians: Poms! and New South Walians. Bellow! Newcastilians, Some Upon Tyne, some-under-Lyme, Britons! and Australians: Poms! and New South Walians. Barely barley brilliance In your broths’ ebullience, But butterflies in billions, Papilionaceous aliens.

THROUGH ANY POINT ON A PLANE Through any point on a plane You can pass only one line perpendicular to the plane. So they say… But through all the points on my plane You can pass all the people and animals on earth So your perpendicular makes me laugh. And not just people and animals But plenty besides Pebbles Flowers Clouds My father and mother A sailing-boat A stovepipe And if I choose Four hundred million perpendiculars. MOEBIUS RING This round-returning road I run Won’t be the same when I’m half-done. No use my going straight ahead, It takes me somewhere else instead. I go right round but the heavens change. I was a youngster yesterday I’m a man today The world is strange. A rose that grows in rosy rows Is not like any other rose. THE ANGLE SUBTENDED… The angle subtended… One moment, what angle? I don’t want to know If it isn’t the angle The one where I’m grounded To count to one hundred Before shouting GO! You strangle me, angle, Engulfed and surrounded. La Belle Angleterre Not Angles but angels Fair England of legend. My eyes are shut tight, My night has descended. The angle subtended… THE PARABOLA Parabola hey! my nanna Parabola bored in its cage Rather be on the branch Branch too low Sun too high I watch birds fly To earth, to sky Branch too low Sun too high Funny birds Nest far from earth Branch too low Sun too high

Démons et merveilles Vents et marées Au loin déjà la mer s'est retirée Et toi Comme une algue doucement caressée par le vent Dans les sables du lit tu remues en rêvant Démons et merveilles Vents et marées Au loin déjà la mer s'est retirée Mais dans tes yeux entrouverts Deux petites vagues sont restées Démons et merveilles Vents et marées Deux petites vagues pour me noyer.

Demons and wonders Winds and tides The sea has gone far out now And you Like seaweed gently caressed by the wind In the sands of our bed you stir dreaming Demons and wonders Winds and tides The sea has gone far out now But in your half-open eyes Linger two little waves Demons and wonders Winds and tides Two little waves I can drown in.