C'est quoi ma maison bleue

je me le demande

en recherchant loin

dans mes souvenirs

jusqu'au temps où

tout le monde se sentait

parfaitment a l'aise

sans crainte de l'avenir.

C'est toi ma maison bleue

non pas un bâtiment

c'est toi qui restes ouvert

toujours rien a craindre.

C'est toi ma maison bleue

c'est là où je m'envole

au crepuscule d'un aurevoir

vois-moi ton tournesol.

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What is my blue house?

I wonder searching back in my mind

to a time of complete ease

with no fear for the times to come.

You are my blue house

not a building

you are always there

for me

I fly to you

in the dusk of a goodbye

see me

your sunflower 

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Maxime le Forrestier wrote of a house where friends were always welcome. Later visiting it was not really his blue house any more, although still painted blue. The people had gone. The door was not always open.

His song of affection and acceptance resonates still, deeply, almost as a prayer for me. There is still a house where the door is always open, and my soul's secrets even yet unspoken can be heard

https://youtu.be/FtoRQ6JxHio