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Paul's Song (Tonight, I drink!)

Tonight, I drink!
Yet, you can turn off the lamp
And, your white hand slides over the ramp
Climbing up to your room
To search your dark sleep
Me, I stay downstairs
 
And, I drink!
Yeah, I promised!
Yeah, but I drink anyways!
Go away, I love you!
Return back to your night
 
I drink...
To the women who didn't love me
To the children that I've never had
Especially to you, who also wanted me...
 
I drink...
To those houses that I left
To the friends who brought me down
Especially to you, who kissed me
Especially to you, who kissed me
 
At that night
We went out to a cinema
The weather was bad
On the Vivienne Street
I was very elegant
I had my Canadian (girl)
You, you had your red coat
And, I looked over your mouth
As if it was a fruit under the rain
As if it was a fruit under the rain
 
Tonight, I drink
 
Happily, I never get drunk
(Go to) Sleep... Tonight, I am going to write my book
It's time, since those times.
It's my novel, it's my story!
There are things, that, we don't write
When it's too late
When it's already been night
Sleep, I love you
Sleep in my life
 
I drink...
To the letters that I didn't write
To the bastards who deserve those
But, I don't know anymore where they live
 
I drink...
To all ideas that I had
Also I drink starting from the one's had me
Especially to you who defended me
Especially to you who defended me
 
On that day,
In a café, in the 15th (district)
You said to me: 'I love you'
I wasn't listening
There was a group over there
They were talking politically
I had a quarrel with someone
And you took me away
As if I was a wounded little kid
As if I was a wounded little kid
 
I drink...
To the combat you led
To take myself away from the festivity
Tonight, I drink to your defeat
 
I drink...
To the times that passed cursing you
To (the times that passed) making you laugh, cherishing you
To the times that passed aging you
 
I drink...
To the women who didn't love me
To the children that I didn't have
Especially to you, who also wanted me...
Especially to you, who also wanted me...
 

I thought I heard

Versions: #1
Darling, since this morning
I've crawled like a loser
in the gutters
From Montparnasse to Château d'Eau
 
I've had glass after glass after glass
Zubrowska, Riesling and Piper
Desperate, at my wit's end
I came back to see you
 
I just would like a body
I've come just for a pair of arms
A comforting bed
Some treats between the sheets
But alas, instead
 
I believe I heard 'I love you'
I thought 'that's his problem'
I believe I heard 'I love you'
I thought 'that's his problem'
 
Never mind that you believe it
Never mind that I am
At my wit's end, desperate
None of that between us
 
I'm okay with being a body
Why not give you my arms?
My bed is still okay
for laughing or dirtying the sheets.
But I'm afraid for all this
You might hear 'I love you'
You might hear 'I love you'
 
I'm old, widowed and narrow minded
A poor moronic secretary
I am young, handsome and Breton
I smell like rain, ocean and lemon crêpes
 
Be a bit quiet, little treasure
You've got it all wrong yet again
I'm very precious, so spare me.
Alright, but none of that between us.
 
I'm okay with being a body
I'm only looking for some arms
My bed is still okay
Some treats beneath the sheets
But I'm afraid for all this
You might hear...
 

Song of the Seine

THe Seine is so lucky.
Coz it has no worry.
It flows a happy life
Both at day and at night.
It comes out of its Spring
So softly, noiselessly
Without being mossy
Without leaving its bed
It goes to the seaside
Just passing through Paris.
 
The Seine is so lucky
Coz it has no worry
And when it has a walk
Along along its wharves
With its so nice green dress
And all its golden lights
Our Lady, so jealous,
So stern and immobile
From the top of its stones
Gives it a few ogles.
 
But the Seine doesn't Care
No, it has no worry
It flows a happy life
Both at day and at night
It goes towards Le Havre
It goes to the seaside
Passing, as in a Dream,
Amidst the mysteries
Miseries of Paris.
 

Song of the gaoler.

Where are you going, you, handsome gaoler?
Holding this blood-stained Key?
I'm going to free the woman I love,
If it is still the Time to,
And whom I have locked up
Tenderly, cruelly,
In the deep of my desire
In the deepest of my torment
In the lies about the future
In all the stupid oaths
I want to free her
I want her to be free
Even to forget me
Even even to flee
Even to Come back one
Day and love me again
Or to love another man
If another man pleases her
If I remain alone
And she remains away
I'll only keep, only,
And I'll keep for ever
In the hollow of my hands
Till the end of my days
THe softness of her breasts
That had been shaped by Love.
 

Sad song

Versions: #1
A musician begins in front of his blank page
A sad waltz, they're not always cheerful, these artists
He sings for himself the notes that come into his mind
Like an autumn wind, it's not always cheerful, Poland
 
His sadness stole the song from the piano
And it plays on your stereo
When you have a heavy heart at night
His song, it's the goodbye he didn't know how to tell her
The kind of music to reminice, to reminice
 
The sun rises again, he's used his ink pen
On his sad waltz, they don't sleep often, these artists
What does it matter who you love, the goodbyes are the same
And the autumn wind goes way further than Poland
 
His song, he wrote it without knowing how
It's probably his heart that you can hear
When someone else sings it passing by
His song, it's his goodbye he didn't know how to tell her
The kind of music to reminice, to reminice
 
A musician begins in front of his blank page
A sad waltz, they're not always cheerful, these artists
He sings for himself the notes that come into his mind
Like an autumn wind, it's not always cheerful, Poland
 

Songs Are Useless

Songs are useless.
They're nothing but words and wind.
They never go too far
and never last for too long.
 
You're everything, you're everything to me.
I have nothing else to say but that
'cause time goes by or stops here.
You're everything to me.
 
I don't see anything more urgent
than enjoying the moment we have.
The moment is now.
 
Songs are useless.
They're nothing but words and wind.
They never go too far
and never last for too long.
 
If I was everything, everything to you,
what else do you want after this?
Time could stop here.
You're everything to me.
 
Let's enjoy the time we have
and we will see tomorrow,
and we will see for good.
 
Songs are useless.
They're nothing but words and wind.
They never go too far
and never last for too long.
 
Songs don't replace anything.
Don't replace anything.
 
Songs are useless.
They're nothing but words and wind.
They never go too far
and never last for too long.
 

Christina is dancing

Christina is dancing over the meadows
She is dancing alone under the stars
She is swaying her skirt over the flowers
Thinking of her dear friend only
 
Why did you not come to the birches?
Why have you forgotten the one you hold dear?
Why did I stand there waiting
When you've got someone else close to your heart?
 
Reflection in the black tarn
Tell me am I not the most beautiful one in the village?
Answer me white water lily
Has the summer seen a more beauteous bride?
 
Christina is dancing over the meadows
She is dancing alone under the stars
She is dancing in the early hours of dawn
Thinking of her dear friend only
 
Reflection in the black tarn
Tell me am I not the most beautiful one in the village?
Answer me white water lily
Has the summer seen a more beauteous bride?
 
Christina is dancing over the meadows
She is dancing alone under the stars
She is dancing in the early hours of dawn
Thinking of her dear friend only
 
She is dancing in the early hours of dawn
Thinking of her dear friend only
 

Everyone Has a Love Song

It suffices on piano that, with one finger, I play this tune,
or that a violin plays it at the back of a courtyard.
And so I seem to hear an entire orchestra playing for me
because everyone has a love song.
 
The trees of winter are covered with flowers,
the sky turns blue as if the birds had returned.
And I imagine seeing us again dancing together, laughing together,
while listening to our love song.
 
And yet I really know that all between us ended a long time ago.
Sometimes the happiness of a lifetime lasts only one springtime.
 
If this melody makes the hearts of other lovers beat faster,
for its sake, I pray to heaven that they stay in love forever.
But do not feel bad for me if, when I hear it, I have tears in my eyes,
because everyone has a love song.
 

3 Songs: A Luigi Tenco Medley

And far, far away in time,
something in the eyes of another
will make you think again of my eyes—
of these eyes that loved you so very much.
 
And far, far away in the world—
in the smile on the lips of another—
you will see that shyness
of which you made such fun.
 
And far, far away in time,
by chance, the look on a face
will recall to you my face
and the sad expression that you so loved.
 
And far, far away in the world,
one beautiful evening, you will be with someone else.
And suddenly, who knows how or why?
You will find yourself speaking to her of me.
 
A love, from this day on, so far away.
 
___________________
 
The usual road, white like salt—
the wheat to grow, the fields to plow.
Watching every day to see if it rains or shines,
to know if tomorrow you will live or die,
and one day saying 'no more' and leaving.
 
Goodbye my love, goodbye my love, goodbye my love, goodbye.
Goodbye my love, goodbye my love, goodbye my love, goodbye.
 
Going far away to search for another world,
saying farewell to the courtyard, going away in a dream.
And then a thousand streets, grey like smoke,
in a world of lights—feeling yourself so insignificant.
Leaping a hundred years in just one day,
from oxcarts in the fields—to airplanes in the sky.
And understanding none of it and yearning to return to you.
 
Goodbye my love, goodbye my love, goodbye my love, goodbye.
Goodbye my love, goodbye my love, goodbye my love, goodbye.
 
Not knowing what to do in a world that knows all,
and having not even a single cent to return to you.
 
Goodbye my love, goodbye my love, goodbye my love, goodbye.
Goodbye my love, goodbye my love, goodbye my love, goodbye.
 
___________________
 
When, in the evening, I return home,
I hardly have the will to speak.
Do not gaze at me with such tenderness
as if I were a child who returned disappointed.
Yes, I know, that this is most certainly not the life
that you envisioned one day for us.
 
You will see, you will see, you will see that it will change—
perhaps not tomorrow but one fine day it will change.
 
You will see, you will see that I am not yet finished.
I cannot tell you how or when, but all will change.
 
I would rather know that you cry—
that you reproach me for having disappointed you—
and not to see you always so sweet.
Accept all that comes from me,
it makes me think more about you,
and I cannot give you more than that of me.
 
You will see, you will see, you will see that it will change—
perhaps not tomorrow but one fine day it will change.
 
You will see, you will see, you will see that it will change—
perhaps not tomorrow but one fine day it will change.
 

The Song of My Happiness

The bird on the branch
sings out his love, starting at dawn.
Reeds bend over,
murmuring words over the water of streams.
And I want to sing for you too—
listen to me.
 
I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you—
my song is always the same,
it comes straight from my heart.
I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you—
my song is always the same,
it is the song of my happiness
 
The mom who awakens
sings softly to rock the child.
The voice of an old woman
seeking to smile as if she were twenty years old.
And I want to sing for you too—
listen to me.
 
I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,
my song is always the same,
it comes straight from my heart.
 
I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,
my song is always the same,
it's the song of my happiness.
 
I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,
my song is always the same,
it comes straight from my heart ...
 

A Song of the Streets

It's a song of the streets
that tells a story,
that of a stubborn love
that wants to know nothing
about the heart that falls asleep—
about the fire that turns to ash—
about the caresses that you forget
by dint of waiting for them.
 
A song of the streets—
one more song—
four cents of love—
that I sing
so that you hear me.
 
A song of love—
a song about
one more love
that I sing
so that you hear it.
 
The story of a beating heart,
despite the passing time,
that wonders why
all loves are erased—
why the day breaks
when it should not—
and leaves me on the beach
when you—you are no longer there.
 
A song of the streets—
one more song—
four cents of love—
that I sing
so that you hear me.
 
A song of love—
a song about
one more love
that I sing
so that you hear it—
so that you hear it—
you hear it.
 

The Song by Prévert

Oh, I would so like it if you could remember that song of yours.
It was your favorite, I believe—it is by Prévert and Kosma.
And every time dead leaves bring you back into my memory,
day after day, loves that have ended never stop dying.
 
With others, of course, I abandon myself but their song is monotonous.
And little by little I become indifferent to that “there is nothing to be done.”
Because every time dead leaves bring you back into my memory,
day after day, loves that have ended never stop dying.
 
Can we ever know where or when indifference begins and ends?
Fall passes, winter comes, and so too the song by Prévert.
This song, the dead leaves erase you from my memory.
And, on that day, loves that have ended will have finished dying.
 
And, on that day, loves that have ended will have finished dying.
 

Love Will Persist

These words are echoing inside of me:
That your time has run out
 
Fumbling around in your memories
Those that will never end
 
I'm standing here
Without you
 
Once the last song is over
The cheers shall never end
 
For when the curtain has fallen and the lights have been turned out
The memories will be all we've got
 
Answers can't be found in sorrow
But love will persist
Yes, love will persist
 
I saw your life go up and down
Just like the sun does every day
 
But there is so much more than meets the eye
To choose the path of love is what you said
 
I'm standing here
Without you
 
But keep living
Inside of me
 
Once the last song is over
The cheers shall never end
 
For when the curtain has fallen and the lights have been turned out
The memories will be all we've got
 
Answers can't be found in sorrow
But love will persist
 
When the leaves start turning golden
In the autumn of love
 
The moments that are stolen
Are the ones that give me comfort
 
And love will live on
In the songs we've got
In the songs we've got
 
Once the last song is over
The cheers shall never end
 
For when the curtain has fallen and the lights have been turned out
The memories will be all we've got
 
Answers can't be found in sorrow
But love will persist
Yes, love will persist
 
For when the curtain has fallen and the lights have been turned out
The memories will be all we've got
 
Answers can't be found in sorrow
But love will persist
Yes, love will persist
 

Song For Her

She doesn’t make love,
she loves.
She doesn’t walk,
she dances.
She doesn’t speak,
she sings.
She doesn’t make love,
she loves.
 
La la la la la...
 
She doesn’t make love,
she loves.
She doesn’t lend herself,
she gives herself entirely.
She doesn’t cry,
she hurts.
She doesn’t make love,
she loves.
 
La la la la la…
 
She doesn’t make love,
she loves.
She doesn’t dream,
she floats on air.
She doesn’t feign living.
She doesn’t ask,
she helps herself.
 
La la la la la…
 

So that it will be pretty, my song

{Pills :}
There are songs that are a great success.
It's because their style of music is very popular...
 
{Piaf :}
'When he takes me into his arms...'
Something along those lines...
 
{Pills :}
Yes, that's it. That's not too bad...
There are songs that are a great success
It's because their lyrics are not ordinary...
 
{Piaf :}
'And that mouth you have on you, Madame...'
 
{Pills :}
Oh! I heard that somewhere...
 
There are songs that are a great success.
It's because the interpret is extraordinary.
 
{ Piaf :}
'It's almost always that...'
 
{Pills :}
But mine is not all that.
I will explain to you why:
 
So that it will be pretty, my song,
First of all, there must be two.
There is of course a boy
And a girl to make him happy.
If you will lend me your voice
To sing with me
This love song.
But it is nothing original
It's completely normal
It rhymes with 'toujours'. 1
 
{Piaf :}
It is unfortunate for the song 2
But it is missing a special something.
And you can tell the boy
That this song is not for me!
 
{Pills :}
I can see what you need:
A port and a sailor,
Bar fights,
Nothing but sinister things...
A poor guy whom they hang,
People who speak softly,
A distinguished gentleman,
An accordionist...
I even heard it said
That it's too fanciful!
That you sang about a clown...
Ah fine! Bravo for the clown!
 
{Piaf :}
No! No, now come on!
You're scolding me!
 
{Pills :}
Oh! Excuse me!
I let myself get carried away a little bit...
 
{Piaf :}
So, in your opinion, this song will be for me?
 
{Pills :}
But yes!
 
{Piaf :}
Eh fine! Sing it for me again.
 
{Pills :}
So that it will be pretty, my song,
First of all, there must be two.
There is of course a boy
And a girl to make him happy.
If you will lend me your voice
To sing with me
This love song.
But it is nothing original
All in all, it's not too bad
It rhymes with 'toujours'.
 
{Piaf and Pills :}
And a girl to make him happy.
There! I am lending you my voice
To sing with you
This love song.
But it is nothing original
All in all, it's not too bad
It rhymes with 'toujours'.
 
So it is pretty then, my song
Because I'm singing it in spite of myself.
And you can tell the boy
That this song is good for me!
 

• 1. Toujours (always) rhymes with amour (love).
• 2. Literally: 'I regret for the song'.

The Dumb and Mean Song

When I was twelve years old, I really liked my brother
He was amazing--he had a glass eye
That he would have probably kept for his entire life--
If I hadn't auctioned it off
 
If you find something worse (ha ha)
Dumber and meaner (ha ha)
Run quickly and write to me-- (ha ha)
You win (ha ha)
(nyah nyah)
 
My sister was a great cook
She would make millefeuille and eclairs
One day I put a few pieces of glass in them--
It was so funny to see everyone rolling on the ground
 
If you find something worse (ha ha)
Dumber and meaner (ha ha)
Run quickly and write to me-- (ha ha)
You win (ha ha)
(nyah nyah)
 
My cousin worked security at a cemetery
One day to scare the hell out of him I covered myself in a green sheet
He saw me suddenly rise up in the light of day
And the day after it was him they buried in the ground
 
If you find something worse (ha ha)
Dumber and meaner (ha ha)
Run quickly and write to me-- (ha ha)
You win (ha ha)
(nyah nyah)
 
My uncle Gontran was a billionaire
Who gave me money without knowing what I did with it
Trying to satisfy me, he gave me so much
That now he eats at the soup kitchen
 
If you find something worse (ha ha)
Dumber and meaner (ha ha)
Run quickly and write to me-- (ha ha)
You win (ha ha)
(nyah nyah)
If you find something worse (ha ha)
Dumber and meaner (ha ha)
Run quickly and write to me-- (ha ha)
You win (ha ha)
(nyah nyah)
 

Song of the Glazier

How fine it is
what you can see just like that
through the sand through the glass
through the window panes
here look for example
how fine it is
that woodcutter
way over there
who is cutting down a tree
to make planks
for the joiner
who has to make a big bed
for the little flower-seller
who is going to marry
the lamplighter
who lights the street lamps every evening
so that the cobbler can see
to repair the shoes of the shoe-shine boy
who brushes those of the knife-grinder
who sharpens the scissors of the hairdresser
who cuts the hair of the bird seller
who gives his birds to everyone
to put everyone in a good mood.
 

Song for Jeanne

Since the roses are so pretty
And because Jeanne is, too,
Everything blooms in this world,
And it is the worst kind of insanity
To care about anything else,
Since the roses are pretty
And Jeanne is, too.
 
Since you are chirping, tits,
And since Jeanne is chirping likewise,
Everything sings in this world,
And I will never worry
About the sacred harps of the angels,
Since you are chirping, tits,
And Jeanne is, too.
 
Since the beautiful flower has faded,
The little bird is dead and so is Jeanne,
Nothing seems alive in this world,
And my only yearning is to depart
Into the grave with my last breath,
Since the beautiful flower is dead,
And the bird, and Jeanne is, too...
 

The Mardi Gras Song

Mardi Gras1, where do you come from?
All around the bottom of the glass?
 
We come from England, oh my dear,
Oh my dear,
We come from England,
All around the bottom of the glass!2
 
Mardi Gras, what are you bringing with you?
All around the bottom of the glass.
 
I'm bringing a weary bottle, oh my dear,
Oh my dear
I'm only bringing a weary bottle
All around the bottom of the glass.
 
And the bottle is drunk,
All around the bottom of the glass.
 
Only half is left, oh my dear
Oh my dear,
Only half is left,
All around the bottom of the glass.
 
And the half is drunk,
All around the bottom of the glass.
 
Only the full glass is left, oh my dear,
Oh my dear,
Only the full glass is left.
All around the bottom of the glass.
 
And the full glass is drunk,
All around the bottom of the glass.
 
There is only half a glass, oh my dear,
Oh my dear,
There is only half a glass,
All around the bottom of the glass.
 
And the half glass is drunk,
All around the bottom of the glass,
And the half glass is drunk,
All around the bottom of the glass.
 
There are only the dregs, oh my dear
Oh my dear,
There are only the dregs,
All around the bottom of the glass.
 
And the dregs, we won't drink, oh my dear,
Oh my dear,
And the dregs, we won't drink,
All around the bottom of the glass.
 
Hello to the master and the mistress,
We ask you for a little something
We ask you for the oldest daughter
We're going to make her do something nice
We're going to make her warm up her feet3
 

• 1. Mardi Gras means Fat Tuesday, the last day before Lent but also refers to the costumed people also called 'masqués' (masked ones)
• 2. There's a variant that goes, 'Tout à l'entour du fond d'hiver' (All around the end of winter)
• 3. By getting her to dance!

The Mardi Gras Song of Basile

Captain:
Captain, captain,
Wave your flag and move your group along.
 
Chorus:
All round about the hub. 
 
Captain:
The road is great, 
the night is long,
and women aren't invited.
It's Mardi Gras,
it just once a year
to ask for charity.
Once a year,
it's not too often
for you anyway.
 
Chorus:
It's hip, it's hip, it's hop,
and my dear fellow.
It's hip, it's hip, it's hop,
and my dear fellow.
 
Captain:
It's the Mardi Gras
It comes from far
It comes from England.
 
Chorus:
All round about the hub.
 
Captain:
It's the Mardi Gras
It's all the good young people,
The good young people that
Come from good families.
 
Chorus:
All round about the hub.
 
Captain:
They are not troublemakers.
They're just beggars.
 
Chorus:
It's hip, it's hip, it's hop,
and my dear fellow.
It's hip, it's hip, it's hop,
and my dear fellow.
 
Captain:
The Mardi Gras
Asks the mistress,
The mistress for
a small fat hen
and rice or fat.
 
Chorus:
All round about the hub
To make their giant gumbo
tonight in Grand Basile.
 
Chorus:
It's hip, it's hip, it's hop,
and my dear fellow.
It's hip, it's hip, it's hop,
and my dear fellow.
 
Captain:
You would promise me this,
You would promise me that,
but you won't give it to me.
 
Chorus:
All round about the hub.
It's hip, it's hip, it's hop,
and my dear fellow.
It's hip, it's hip, it's hop,
and my dear fellow.
 
Captain:
Captain, captain
The savages,
they can sing no longer
because their throat is dry.
 
Chorus:
All round about the hub.
 
Captain:
A good small cold beer 
would make them sing better.
 
Chorus:
It's hip, it's hip, it's hop,
and my dear fellow.
It's hip, it's hip, it's hop,
and my dear fellow
 

A French Song

It`s a romance, written in France
A melody on which I met you
You talked to me about English records
I taught you how to talk to me about street love
French girl, you understood
That it's not all gold that comes from across the Channel
Since that day, dead leaves
And white roses are songs of love
You are the midday sun, the aroma of Normandy
The taste of good wine, the taste of life
 
(Chorus)
You are beautiful like, kind like a French song
You are simple like, gentle like a French song
Come be a romantic
You sing when everything's going badly
You always have an attitude
That doesn't believe in worrying in life
 
Yes, you are proud like, gentle like a French song
You have the good sense and the heart of a French song
Yes, almost as beautiful and loyal, as traditional
As a timeless song
You make love like in a French Song
 
Fog and rain, a winter`s evening
I`m coming back in a car speeding towards Paris
You're keeping me warm and while we drive
I put on the radio as to not fall asleep
But near 110, the road is slippery
It's a downpour, quickly, we must find shelter
I was under duress from the lightning
Suddenly, we were the only ones on Earth
 
Under an Italian poplar that served as a lightning rod
You became my most beautiful chorus
(Chorus)
Yes
(Chorus)
 

I sing songs

Versions: #2
It is written, beneath my name, on the bottom of my passport:
'He lives of songs, has received thirty gold records.'
That I was born the day I sang
 
I sing songs to make people dream
I sing songs to make people smile
To love one an other you may need
Someone else to tell you
 
And I learned by heart the two pages of my first fan
letter
And I kept it ten days, pinned
On the sky-blue paper, at my hotel
 
I sing songs to make people dream.
I sing songs to make people smile.
To love one an other you may need
Someone else to tell you.
 
I nearly can do nothing with my hands.
Who am I in front of a mason or a carpenter?
 
But when it's just asked for some dream or sorrow,
I am here and I give what I have, like a man
And here is all my life...
I sing...
 
I sing songs to make people dream.
I sing songs to make people smile.
To love one an other you may need
Someone else to tell you.(x2)
 

The Song Of Louts

The day rises on my suburbs
I'm cold it's not winter yet
What could I do for Gods sake?
I do not have a round and I do not look
serious, serious
 
I'm a lout among many others
I'm not sleeping far from the Defense
I look dirty, it's not my fault
My HLM is not Byzantium
My friend, my friend
 
At fourteen, my father
Hired me at the factory
Two days later I left
Seems I'm an unworthy son
 
One evening in a deserted street
I mowed a Honda 500
To an honest bourgeois son
With her I go to 200
Yeah that's nice, it's nice
 
My friend Pierrot crashed
On the highway on a rainy day
Sometimes I hear him laugh
It's sure he's in heaven
It's swollen, it's swollen
 
And I continue my film like life
At the foot of these shabby buildings
I'd like to die before I'm ugly
I would like to finish like you my old Gavroche
 
I'm a peripheral lout
I'm full of the boots of this city
France is a shitty suburb
As my friend Mohamed says
With cops, With cops
 
The day rises on my suburbs
I'm cold it's not winter yet
It's funny the bitumen is all blue
There's my bike that cracks on the floor
Good God, good God
Oh, God
Oh my God, good God
 

Songs for Those Who Love Each Other

So many melodies mark our way
And without them the world be worse off today
 
Modern or old-fashioned, they all make us dream
Und each one of us keeps them hidden in our hearts
 
Songs for those who love each other
Old songs with everlasting words
Songs that remember and that come back when love is gone
 
Songs for those who love each other
New songs with words of lovers
Songs that are always faithful and remind us of happy days
 
We can redo everything, change the world
Live without borders, we'll sing
Forget history, believe, not believe anymore
Things will stay the same in our memories
 
Songs for those who love each other
Songs that remember and that people wait for
One day, sing the same one and it'll turn into
The anthem of peace from now on, from now on
 

The old hands

These lyrics are extremely redundant. Rather than copy-pasting the same lines over and over, I'd rather pack the actual story together.
 
As in many folk songs, the chorus is mostly a rhythmic pattern (though it actually makes sense and is even rather amusing)
 
Title
 
'Les vieux de la vieille' is a fixed expression meaning 'the old hands'. It's just a pun on the chorus, with no relation to the actual story.
 
Chorus
 
Granny had noticed Gramps could no longer see a thing
yet Gramps was well aware Granny could not see a thing (x2)
 
Main story
 
My father had no daughter but me
One day he cast me off to sea.
The sailor who lead me there
fell in love with me
Each time he went:
'My little cutie, give me a kiss'
[I answered] 'Oh no, Mister, I wouldn't dare
for if my father knew about that
he would give me a good beating'
 
That's all folks
 
This translation does not claim to be of any particular value.
Glad if you liked it, sorry if you didn't.
You can reuse it as you please.
Glad if it's for knowledge or understanding, sorry if it's just for money or fame.

The Fall Song by Paul Verlaine

Versions: #3
'the Fall Song' by Paul Verlaine
 
violins' songs
prolong
the fall, in a tone,
hit my heart in a strong,
long
monotone.
 
I'm short of air,
pale in time's care,
when, in a while,
I do retain
the ancient days,
and I cry.
 
and, I will go,
when the winds blow,
I'll be tossed,
to and fro,
as though
a leaf lost.
 
Translation from French by Ivan Petryshyn, U-A
 

Summer song

The lengthy lament
Of autumn
Violins
Fills my heart
With a sluggish
Dullness
 
Suffocating
And drained, when
The hour sounds,
I remember
Long bygone days
And I weep.
 
And I drift
In the evil wind
That sweeps me away
Here and there
Just like
A dead leaf
 
In summer I’ll come back
As a newborn baby
To tap deep down your bones
The summer light
The imperfect tense
To conjugate as a more than present
To find the gold now
That hides deep down my bones
To be and to have been lost for so long
In another dimension like a spirit
Top-to-tail
To be and to have been
A ghost of flesh and blood
Humming a summer song
For all eternity
A summer song
 

At the time of Pierrot and Colombine

At the time of Pierrot and Colombine
In a world less crazy than today,
Pierrot didn't have a car
To meet his girlfriend,
He ran to loose his breath
without stopping at the fountains
He ran, ran, ran
 
When Pierrot met Colombine
To bring her in the wood
Pierrot who didn't have a car
Took his sweet friend by the hand
And words were coming to him
And sentences were turning,
And Pierrot chatted, chatted,
Without thinking of kissing her
And without a car
With Colombine
He took his time, all of his time
To offer her twenty years
 
When Pierrot dreamed about Colombine,
Who was alone in the town
Pierrot without a phone
To call the cutie
Lighted a candle
And wrote in the paper
The most beautiful things
 
And Pierrot dedicated with his pen
Wrote to calm his ardor
Under the absentminded watch of the moon
Laughing in front of all this happiness
And words were coming to him
And sentences were turning
And his heart was beating, beating
In the blue of the inkwell
And words were hovering
And sentences were turning
And when the day came, there were
More than a hundred love letters
 
When Pierrot was waiting for Colombine
Who was doing her work in the town
Pierrot didn't have an electrophone
To kill the monotone time
He took his mandolin
Composed minuets
Sweet cavatinas
 
When Pierrot married Colombine
He was a poet and a musician
Colombine sang in her kitchen
while doing the laundry, or making bread
And without a car,
In love and quiet
They took their time, all of the time
To love each other madly
And without a phone,
And without an electrophone
They lived up to almost a hundred years
And had a lot of children
 

Song of fearful happiness

Ah my friends here it is the song of happiness.
It passed this way, I saw it just now.
It’s already gone, yep but I don’t know where.
If I find it today, I’ll bite its neck.
 
Ah my friends here it is the song of fear.
The one that wakes you up at night and fills you with horror.
It’s like the story of that man who never said yes.
By chance I settled on this strange dream.
 
At last, the day breaks at last.
At last, the day breaks at last.
 
He hasn’t had an easy life ever since having been
abandoned like a bag at the foot of the stairs.
To be dragged about by the scruff of his neck again and again.
Chucked on the pavement like an attack hobo. 1
 
All this while in the city the monuments are bored.
He takes the girl’s hand, he thinks her pretty.
The sun has set hours and hours ago.
She finds him a bit rough but devours his lips.
 
At last, the day breaks at last.
At last, the day breaks at last.
 

• 1. The only reference I can find to this is in Grand Theft Auto where the hobos carry Molotovs. /edit - probably a pun on (clo) char d'assaut - a tank.

Lev Song

Lev, Lev, Lev, take your hat off
Lev, let the sun
Gently caress your skin
Lev, Lev in my dreams
I imagine you're getting up
Next to me, without fear
Of lions, of the dark, of the heat
At dawn you get up, Lev, good boy
Umbrella in hand, little hat
A little briefcase with your supplies
At dawn they wake up
The monsters from your dreams
Monsters, photophobic, half-sleep
Are you afraid of the sun?
Flooded with vermilion red
I saw your heart beat, lionheart
Beneath the surface
I embalm myself in your brilliance
Lev, Lev, Lev, take your hat off
Lev, let the sun
Gently caress your skin
Lev, Lev in my dreams
I imagine you're getting up
Next to me, without fear
Of lions, of the dark, of the heat
Lev, Lev, take your hat off
Lev, leave the sun!
Wet and criminal emotions
And under a double rainbow
Kiss me, good boy
Kiss me on the lips
Lev, Lev, Lev, take off your hat
Lev, let the sun
Gently caress your skin
Lev, Lev in my dreams
I imagine you're getting up
Take off your hat
 
~3oudicca

Azima's Song

When the desert advances
It's life that retreats
Blame it on bad luck
Or god who smites us
 
And the desert is advancing
Nobody believes it
That's out downfall
The impossible fight
 
When the desert advances
What do you want us to be?
The Tuareg women dance
They don't believe it either
 
In their childhood memories
The hunters were there
But the desert advances
The sand becomes king
 
And it's our suffering
Which flows between our fingers
In these immense dunes
Who will survive
 
But you, who come from France
Where people drink to forget
Tell them what you think
Tell them what you see
 
Tell them what their chances are
And that they don't see it
And that we're dying of impotence
But we're keeping the faith
 
May the desert advance
And water never come
Without that deliverance
We no longer have a choice
 
Tell them that night is falling
On this awful emergency
And that it's on our tombs
That the desert is advancing
 
i hope this translation was useful to you. use it wherever, i don't mind.
i write evocative translations rather than precise ones so this might not be 'word for word'.

Novembre

Pas d'oiseaux pas d'abeille, pas de feuille sur les arbres
Novembre
Pas de papillons, le ciel n'est pas baigné par le soleil
Novembre
Pas d'histoires à dire, aucune main pour se maintenir
Novembre
Pas de baiser de bonne nuit, pas d'amour en vue
Novembre
 
Tu t'en rappelle de la première fois qu'on c'est rencontrer, oublie
Tu te souviens de ton vrai premier baiser, oublie
Mais tout a été dévasté
Quand le vent du nord est apparu
 
C'était une aventure rapide, beaucoup plus romantique
Posé sur la plage avec de la barbe-à-papa
Mais je ne t'ai pas revu depuis
Ton bronzage a disparu
 
Tu sais, ton amour était aussi brûlant qu'une bougie
Mais le feu a été trop fort pour se maintenir
Dans l'arc-en-ciel
 
Quand l'été à pris fin, tu m'as ignoré
Comme si dans la chaleur tu m'as adoré
Maintenant tu es parti
J'ai été abandonné comme un chat en été
 
Pas d'oiseaux pas d'abeille, pas de feuille sur les arbres
Novembre
Pas de papillons, le ciel n'est pas baigné par le soleil
Novembre
 
Tu regrettes la solitude, n'est ce pas?
Quand tu restes éveiller dans la nuit, je te tiens
Dans la fraîcheur de la pluie de Novembre
Je me tiens seul et humide
 
Viens dans mes yeux
Et sèche ces larmes comme tu le faisais avant
Prend l'herbe car il doit y en avoir
Mille mots
 
Tu t'en rappelle de la première fois qu'on c'est rencontrer, oublie
Tu te souviens de ton vrai premier baiser, oublie
Mais tout a été dévasté
Quand le vent du nord est apparu
 
Pas d'oiseaux pas d'abeille, pas de feuille sur les arbres
Novembre
Pas de papillons, le ciel n'est pas baigné par le soleil
Novembre
Pas d'histoires à dire, aucune main pour se maintenir
Novembre
Pas de baiser de bonne nuit, pas d'amour en vue
Novembre