Acknowledgement and heartful thanks to Vi Moreau who helped me greatly. I translated this, trying not to be too litteral and keep the meaning of what I wrote in my native language, French. Vi then answered my pleas and put up with my English version, helping with sentencing in the proper form. Apologies to the English language which I like fine enough. This poem came to me easy enough in French and I do happen to love poetry. I am not so sure it should have been translated in the first place.

Disclaimer : I do not own anything but the flow of words and ideas that comes to me because Highlander and Connor MacLeod reached something inside me.

The Ballad of the Man With the Running Shoes

Johanne Bri�re

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Coming from your mountains
Lost in the clouds
Sword in hand
Killers behind you
Ladies in front of you

Those ladies who have lost
Their joyous laughter
And their bright shiny gazes
Those ladies who are looking
Into your cold glare
And who live off your emotions

They are watching for you from above
Wrapped in your long coat
Ready in your running shoes
Sliding a smile some of the times
In those alleys that are better lit

But where have you
Highlander
But where have you
Left your heart and left your soul
Highlander?

From far away, those ladies are watching
Those cherished women, who made
Your loins moan
Who made your nights moan

And those ladies, who know your heart
Who know your arms
Arms which handle the body, the pleasure
As they handle the katana and the challenge

With affront
Without the last
With nerves of steel
And be the last

Oh Highlander
What have they done to you?

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