Mademoiselle, the bicycle suits you so well

Denis CHEYNET, October 2006

Mademoiselle, the bicycle suits you so well, it makes me lose my balance.
Watching your legs in motion, my heart races in silence.

Never have I seen someone ride with such grace.
You are a flower adrift among metallic shells in this place.

All these cars are dull and crude, without flair.
Your beauty intoxicates me — you're lovely and light as air.

Leaning forward, hair blowing wild and free,
You are the one I’ve dreamed of endlessly.

Mademoiselle, may I ride along by your side?
Let us escape these motorists, dulled by their ride.

Let them fume, stuck in traffic jams that never end,
While they envy the freedom we share and defend.

Let’s slip away from these cold, grey main roads,
And glide through backstreets full of hidden codes.

I will show you my cryptic, poetic side,
And teach you how to master handlebar tape with pride.

Mademoiselle, the bicycle suits you so well, I fell off mine just seeing you ride.