Nostalgie

Between Healing and Pain

Nostalgia is a strange thing. It doesn’t live in the past—it lives in us. It can be warm, a quiet refuge where memories of loved ones bring comfort, laughter, a sense of belonging. But when you are alone, when those who once filled your world are gone, nostalgia changes. It turns inward, filling the empty spaces with longing, with echoes that no one else can hear. It can heal. It can wound. It can be both medicine and poison. Nostalgie was born from this contradiction.

Originally, this track was meant to be part of my album Virgin Mind—a project that questions, deconstructs, and at times, simply absorbs. However, during the creative process, I decided to release a separate mini-album, Nostalgie, dedicated to songs with French motifs and lyrics. This decision shaped the essence of the track itself, allowing it to exist in a space where memory and melody intertwine more intimately.

Some lines in the song whisper of someone who is no longer here. Someone who loved the sky, who belonged to it, and who, in the end, became part of it. Their body fell, but not their spirit. That thought lingers in the lyrics, subtle but unshakable.

"Quand les ailes se brisent un jour,
Les corps tombent… mais pas l’amour."
(When wings break one day,
Bodies fall… but not love.)

But memory is a strange thing—it finds its way into places unseen. In Nostalgie, it lives not just in meaning but in form. The name of this person is woven into the first letters of several lines, hidden in plain sight. Even in silence, even between the words, their presence remains.

To me, Nostalgie is not just about longing—it is about the dual nature of memory. It can heal, wrapping you in warmth as you relive shared moments, laughter, love. But it can also isolate, trapping you in echoes of what’s gone. This contradiction is at the heart of the song.

Musically, it moves like breath—soft, fading, then swelling again. The vocal dynamics follow this rhythm, from intimate whispers to swelling harmonies, as if the song itself is struggling between remembering and letting go. It is not here to fill space. It exists to create space.

Nostalgie does not look back. It steps inside. And once you are there, it asks only one thing: will it be your cure, or your poison?

Lyrics

Au loin, le vent caresse ma peau,
Nuit tranquille, mais cœur en écho.
Dans l’air flotte une voix légère,
Revivant un instant d’hier.
Et le passé danse sans bruit,
Whisper de l’âme infinie.
... Et le passé danse sans bruit,
... Whisper de l’âme infinie.

Nostalgie, je ris, je pleure,
Un instant, mille couleurs.
Tantôt baume, tantôt blessure,
Elle me berce, elle me dure.

Au détour d’un souvenir,
Nous étions lumière et désir.
Dans les cieux flottent les âmes,
Rien n’efface leur vague de flammes.
Elles veillent, portées par le vent,
Whisper d’un monde différent.

Nostalgie, je ris, je pleure,
Un instant, mille couleurs.
Tantôt baume, tantôt blessure,
Elle me berce, elle me dure.

***

Ainsi, quand les ailes se brisent,
Nulle chute n’efface leur grise.
Dans le ciel, ils volent toujours,
Revenant dans nos amours.
Et nos cœurs les sentiront,
Whisper d’eux, nous entendrons.

Nostalgie… elle vient sans bruit,
Douce amie… ou ennemie.