Remember Barbara it rained relentlessly on Brest that day, and you walked smiling, beaming, ravishing, drenched under the rain. Remember Barbara it rained relentlessly on Brest that day, and I ran into you in Siam Street, you were smiling, and I smiled too. Remember Barbara you whom I didn't know, you who didn't know me, remember, remember that day still, don't forget, a man was taking cover on a porch and he cried your name Barbara, and you ran to him under the rain beaming, ravishing, drenched, and you threw yourself in his arms. Remember that Barbara and don't be mad if I speak familiarly, I speak familiarly to everyone I love even if I've seen them only once, I speak familiarly to all who are in love even if I don't know them, remember Barbara don't forget that good and happy rain on your happy face on that happy town, that rain upon the sea, upon the arsenal, upon the Ushant boat. Oh! Barbara what stupidity is war, what has become of you under this iron rain of fire and steel and blood, and he who held you in his arms amorously is he dead and gone or still so much alive. Oh! Barbara, it rained all day on Brest today as it was raining before, but it isn't the same anymore, and everything is wrecked, it's a rain of mourning, terrible and desolate, nor is it still a storm of iron and steel and blood, but simply clouds that die like dogs, dogs that disappear in the downpour drowning Brest, and float away to rot a long way off, a long, long way from Brest of which there's nothing left.