You painted the sea

Can you recall, we were only sixteen
In the hushing gusts of the morning wind?
Saint-Tropez and its harsh reckless waves…
The sky was bluer than it is today.

You were dressed like a corsair burnt by the sun,
Your easel for the shield and your paintbrush for the gun.
My bare feet in the sand, I was there by your side.
The sea envied our souls, for it was not that wide.

There were rainbows and flashes… But now you are gone.
I have never asked why but the answer is known.
You belonged to the world of diamonds and gold
In the sea where the dreamers never grow old.

Now I’m painting for you in the sky, in the waves
Cruel pirates of ancient times and their slaves,
Wet salty kisses that our parents disdained,
The shreds of our blankets and love that we made.

I am painting the sails, for now they are torn.
I am painting our children, for they are unborn.
My brushes are tired, the moon’s riding high
But I’m still on the beach and I’m painting goodbye.