Step into the twilight garden that Zaz and Till Lindemann paint: a secret patch of night where flowers bloom on heartache. Each evening the singer lays her heart among petals, kisses taste first of honey then salt, and even the trees and nightingales join the quiet sobbing. The mix of French and German sounds like two voices echoing in a misty greenhouse, lush, intimate, and a little haunted.
Behind the poetic images lies a story of love changed by loss. The garden is really the narrator's grief; tears fall like rain, nourishing the blossoms as memories keep the departed lover alive. By turning sorrow into fertile soil, the song suggests that pain can feed beauty and growth, and that singing through sadness is its own quiet act of hope.