After mild speculation on my part, I've decided to provide a translation for the words, and I'll have you know that the french and the english tend not to relate until the end, because the french is being spoken by the people inside the poem.
Anyways, here goes:
Reste ici une moment = stay here a moment
le froid est une plague; c'est la mort = the cold is a plague; it is death
une seconde de plus = one second more
une jour
ensoleillée = a sunny day
une chanson pour toi mon amour = a song for you my love
c'est comme la mort tes cheveux = your hair is like the dead
que c'est mort = how it's black
Thus, I have, quite rightly, revealed the truth about french; it is a composition of the simplest and most beautiful of words in a tongue that was once described by native americans as birds singing... So that, in the end, it's utterance is pure romance, and is convoluted into an imperceivable sound of little meaning and much beauty.
Therefore, it worked for this poem.
Convoluted Empty = Un Vide Labyrinthique
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