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To Whom

To whom? To smile again if you go away.
To whom? To whom else do I reach out?
Away from you, there is depression—close to you, there is life.
I know that you are unhappy.
The look of our love is still in your eyes.
 
To whom? To talk about love while awakening.
To whom? To say sweet words while kissing.
You know that you hurt me
by leaving me so very alone.
Stay here still—oh, do not go away.
 
To whom? To give again all of my tenderness.
To whom? To whom do I relate my sadness?
To whom do I say 'I love you'?
To whom do I recount my pain?
Tell me to whom if not to you.
 

Good Luck To Everyone

You say everywhere that he is very handsome and that you think
that no boy ever knew how to please you in this way.
You also say that, in the end, a great emptiness
breaks your heart when you see him close to me.
 
Good luck to everyone, you have to earn your love.
You should not think that for you it's a done deal
because I love him—I love him—I love him as well.
 
When I see him, just like you, my life ignites,
and when his eyes, gazing at me, seem troubled—
no doubt we have the same weapons
and it is not necessary to cheat but rather to fight.
 
Good luck to everyone, you have to earn your love.
You should not think that for you it's a done deal
because I love him—I love him—I love him as well.
 
You go in circles threatening me with your anger.
But why hold up your fists day after day?
Because if I lose and tomorrow he chooses you,
then that's too bad—me, I will say that's the way it goes.
 
Good luck to everyone, you have to earn your love.
to everyone good luck—
to everyone good luck—
to everyone good luck...
 

I Call You Again

You, who said you love me,
I gave you the best of me.
You, you have broken everything
but my wounded heart speaks to me of you.
 
And I call you again,
and I still hope in you
because I love you, I love you, I love you,
I love you even so.
And I do not want to believe
that there is no longer hope.
I wait for you, return to me, I need you.
 
Me, I want to forgive,
I want to forget that you left.
Me, I will take you back
as in the past because it is not finished.
 
And I call you again,
and I still hope in you
because I love you, I love you, I love you,
I love you even so.
And I do not want to believe
that there is no longer hope.
I wait for you, return to me, I need you.
 
And I call you in vain,
and I hope in you in vain,
and I love you, I love you, I love you,
I love you even so.
Without you, I no longer have anything.
Tell me that you are returning
because without you—because without you,
I am no longer anything.
 

I Am Losing You

Your heart no longer belongs to me.
All is now lost for me.
It is the unknown without you—
nothing more to do because I am losing you.
 
Love was too foolish.
The dream was so sweet.
Here is the adieu for us.
I know that I am losing you.
 
Our hearts formed effortlessly
the links of a chain
until the day when suddenly
I saw you pass by,
holding the hand—the hand of another.
 
Someone will replace
what I was for you.
What remains for me
now that I am losing you?
 
~~~~~
 
What remains for me
now that I am losing you?
 

The Anniversary

New Year's Day, it returns too often.
I do not know how the time flies.
The first of May hardly has sprung
before a new sprig of lily of the valley pokes through.
 
The fourteenth of July—I forgot all about it
and here are its lanterns lighting the night.
And Halloween that comes around as a death knell
for all those who will not be returning.
 
A year—another anniversary
of a morning without light
when you took off like a bird.
A year, one year more, my beautiful,
to blow out your candles
and eat your cake alone.
 
New Year's Day, it returns too often.
I do not know how the time flies.
Easter Day, that returns like the day,
the first one when we made love.
 
And Pentecost, that seems like just yesterday
when I discovered the sea at Tréport.
And All Saints Day—there it returns
with a chrysanthemum in its hand.
 
A year—another anniversary
of a day that will make me
cry when I should smile.
A year, one year more, my beautiful,
go blow out the candles
of your memories.
 

Love and Me

It's a strange kind of fight
but to win it, you have the choice of weapons.
Music or flowers,
irony, laughter or heart, or charm.
A mundane path paved with little nothings
that perhaps will lead to the shelter of my arms.
 
You never really stop loving, they say,
and never will we leave one another.
Through joys and through pain,
me—this is the love I love.
 
The sun of passions
will illuminate your house with its storms.
If you want something else
in a color a little more pink—that's too bad.
Tender walks, poetry, ballads,
autumn in the woods—all that I can do without.
 
You never really stop loving, they say,
and never will we leave one another.
Through joys and through rain,
my love, that is life.
 
Here is a warning—
me, I only fight those unarmed without arms.
But I am truly fearless.
My loyal ally (love) keeps you under its spell.
I do not know how long this adventure will live.
I would like it to last—today I open my arms to you.
 
(You never really stop loving, they say,)
You never really stop loving, they say.
(You never really stop loving, they say,)
Love, tell me.
Love, tell me.
(You never really stop loving, they say,)
You never really stop loving, they say.
(You never really stop loving, they say,)
Love, tell me, love and me, love and me—
(You never really stop loving, they say,)
love and me—
love.
(You never really stop loving, they say,)
Love, tell me, love, tell me—
(You never really stop loving, they say,)
love, tell me ...
 

Justine

We always saw her passing by all hunched over
under the weight of a bundle of wood but more often of two.
We saw her spend the morning and the evening,
her hair pulled back, always dressed in black.
 
From the perspective of ten years old, I believed her to be older
than that trunk of the olive tree, those twigs on the trellis.
But I heard my mother from the back of the kitchen
cry out, cry out, cry out: 'Hello, hello, Justine.'
 
She lived down there in the very oldest house,
the one that is almost lost in the blue of the horizon.
Barricaded in her home as if in a castle,
she counted her days as one counts a treasure.
 
From the perspective of fifteen years old, I found her quite ugly
with her immense feet and her stiff gait.
But I heard my mother from the back of the kitchen
cry out, cry out, cry out: 'Hello, hello, Justine.'
 
One morning in the street, we did not hear her,
but a few days later, the death knell sounded.
She had died alone at the age of ninety years.
You die alone at that age even if surrounded by children.
 
From the perspective of thirty years old, that broke something,
much as you sober up when the sky turns pink in the morning.
I no longer had my mother at the back of the kitchen,
and it was I who cried out, 'Adieu, adieu, Justine.'
 

Every Time I Believe It

Adieu, rain, adieu, night. I live only in sunlight.
No more winter, that was yesterday, today spring awakes.
Adieu darkness, adieu despair, my life has changed color.
Love is here, at arm's length, it returns to live in my heart.
 
And you, life, when you smile—how could I blame you?
You have hurt me, you have made me cry,
but it is so good to see you again that I throw myself into your arms.
 
Look at me all the time and, yes, I will believe it every time.
And I believe in it as on the first day without a regret about my past.
And even if it all ends tomorrow, I want to sing about it tonight.
 
~~~~~
 
Look at me all the time and, yes, I will believe it every time.
And I throw myself into your arms without a regret about my past.
And even if it all ends tomorrow, I want to sing about it tonight.
 
No more winter—that was yesterday.
Love is here at arm's length.
My life begins again with you.
 

I Naturally Prefer

I like four boys from an English group.
They have long hair like all the English,
pretty English clergy boots,
and lace collars like the English Lords.
 
I naturally prefer the most attractive—the most attractive,
naturally.
 
Each of the boys in this English group.
has a tie in the English style.
One is yellow, the other two are English green.
The other has the colors of the English flag.
 
I naturally prefer the most conspicuous—the most conspicuous,
naturally.
 
The four boys of this English group
only dress in English fabrics.
They go to the same English tailor—
English, or naturalized English.
 
I naturally prefer the most elegant—the most elegant,
naturally.
 
The youngest boy in this English group
taught me to say 'yea yea' in English.
It's nice when you know English.
The English do not like that which is not English.
 
I naturally prefer the least naughty—the least naughty,
naturally.
 
By dint of listening to this English band,
to hear all of their hits in English,
to call them by their English names,
I think I have caught onto the English accent.
 
It came to me naturally by frequenting the most attractive,
naturally.
 
The most attractive—the most elegant—the least naughty,
naturally.
 
The least naughty—-the most elegant-—the most attractive,
naturally.
 

I Am All Women

I am all women.
I live your joys and your melodramas.
I am sentimental
and sometimes a femme fatale as well.
Let me be condemned
if my heart ignites
in front of the spotlights
that aim right in my heart every night.
 
I am all women.
I sing, I dance, it's an entire program.
I am queen of disco
and Pierrot's friend too.
Forgive me when I give of myself
and I live through my songs
across the seasons of my life.
 
I am all women.
I like glitter, rhinestones, telegrams,
premiere nights,
then every other night as well.
And my life as a star
ends in the dark
when the lights fade out
and silence reigns in the night.
 
I am all women.
I live your joys and your melodramas.
I am sentimental
and sometimes a femme fatale as well.
Let me be condemned
if my heart ignites
in front of the spotlights
that aim right in my heart every night.
 
~~~~~
 
(Women, women)
(Women, women)
(Women, women)
(Women, women)
 
~~~~~
 
I am all women.
I like glitter, rhinestones, telegrams,
premiere nights,
then every other night as well.
And my life as a star
ends in the dark
 
I am all women—
I am all women—
I am all women—
I am all women—
all women.
 

I Love You

You have just told me goodbye, sadness is in your eyes.
I can hardly believe it—it's over.
After so much love transpired, we are both wounded.
Goodbye, beautiful story—it's over.
I love you.
 
Tomorrow, my heart broken—tomorrow, all alone will I go.
I will go far away to hide, my life shredded,
where I can endlessly cry out—cry out:
I love you—I love you—I love you.
 
A rival stole my love and my cries are worth nothing.
In the wind it already dies—it's over.
I would nonetheless like that one day you remember my love—
an unfortunate love that bleeds forever.
I love you—I love you—I love you.
I love you.
 

I No Longer Know

I no longer know what just happened between us.
I no longer know why I became so afraid so suddenly.
 
Yet here I am in your arms—yet here you are close to me.
But when you go to kiss me, I sense that all has changed.
 
So I no longer know if our love slowly will die.
I no longer know—now I no longer know what to do.
 
Once you promised to love me for a lifetime.
But I fear today that you did not understand that.
 
How much—me, can I love you? How much do I want to keep you?
And to have you all to myself, you see that I would do anything.
 
So I no longer know what just happened between us.
I no longer know why I became so afraid so suddenly.
 
Yet here I am in your arms—yet here you still are.
But when you go to kiss me, I sense that all has changed.
 
Tell me that you still love me.
Say it because I no longer know.
Tell me that you still love me.
Say it because I no longer know.
Tell me that you still love me.
Say it because I no longer know....
 

I Love You, That Means Love Me

You cannot always give without receiving from time to time.
And talking to someone deaf in the long run is tiring.
I warm you up but I am cold.
I love you—that means love me.
 
So that I make myself beautiful for you, you throw me a bone in passing.
You want my fidelity—you are an absent lover.
You forget me thirty days a month.
I love you—that means love me.
 
Once upon a time in your grand chateau, I would have waited patiently
for the soldier to come lie down—you've fooled yourself for 500 years.
If you want a fight, come to my door.
I love you—that means love me.
 
I am not a pure soul, I did not pronounce my vows.
I have the hot blood of my country—I expect to love you when I want it.
I will not repeat this to you.
I love you—that means love me.
 
A smile in the shape of hope—a word that speaks to both of us.
A tender gesture of goodbye—a glance into the depths of my eyes.
That is what I expect from you.
I love you—that means love me.
That is what I expect from you.
I love you—that means love me.
 

I Rest

Just as the veils of a star
now extinguish the springtime of morning.
Just as the canvas of a sail
is now only the wind that dies.
 
I rest from my sorrow.
My heart reposes on satin.
 
Like a mother who tries—
that the child, that the turn do not forget—
that the sadness is the same
to learn that he will not return.
 
I no longer need to repeat
that I really liked to regret it.
 
~~~~~
 
I rest from my sorrow.
My heart reposes on satin.
 

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.
 

I Would Have Danced

(I would have liked,
I would have liked,
I would have liked to dance.)
 
I would have liked to dance,
I would have liked to spin,
until the end of time.
All giddy with joy,
all enthralled with you,
to the rhythm of love.
 
All night long,
or perhaps for all of life,
at least for the time to get to know one another.
 
If I had known, I would have
understood as a confession
everything that you said to me
with your eyes.
 
~~~~~
 
But ever since then
I still dance in my dreams
with your name on my lips.
 
I miss you,
your memory surrounds me,
because it was you,
yes you,
love.
 

Will Love You Always

Fear nothing, I will return because I will love you always.
Will love you always—you really are my only love.
Today, I am far away but I will return one day.
Will return one day because I am so good next to you.
 
Yes I know soon that on the ocean, I will go forward every day.
If times and people have changed day after day,
my heart is no longer heavy, I am sure of my feelings.
 
Fear nothing, I will return because I will love you always.
Will love you always—you really are my only love.
And nothing more, nothing ever starting with my return—
yes, with my return—will be able to break our bond.
 
Because you cry, I know, and for such a long time,
knowing that you alone wait for me.
 
Do not be afraid, I'll come back because I'll always love you.
You will always love me—in my life I have only one love.
 
Fear nothing, I will return because I will love you always.
Will love you always—you really are my only love.
Today, I am far away but I will return one day.
Will return one day because I am so good next to you.
 
Yes I know soon that on the ocean, I will go forward every day.
 
Fear nothing, I will return because I will love you always.
Will love you always—in my life, I have only one love.
 

I Have Your Hand

We are lounging on the summer grass.
It grows late, you can hear lovers and birds singing.
You hear the whisper of the country wind.
You hear the mountain sing.
 
I have your hand in my hand, I touch your fingers.
I have my eyes on your eyes and everywhere you see
only that night, beautiful night, only the wonderful sky
that seems to blossom in turn tender and mysterious.
Come closer, closer, my love, your heart against my heart,
and tell me that there is no more charming happiness
that these eyes in the sky, than the sky in your eyes,
than your hand touching my hand
 
I do not know you—you know nothing of me.
We are only two vagabonds—a girl of the woods, a bad boy.
My dress is torn. I no longer have a home.
I have nothing but this beautiful season.
 
I have your hand in my hand, I touch your fingers.
I have my eyes on your eyes and everywhere you see
only that night, beautiful night, only the wonderful sky
that seems to blossom in turn tender and mysterious.
Come closer, closer, my love, your heart against my heart,
and tell me that there is no more charming happiness.
We forget the adventure and the road and tomorrow.
But what does it matter since I have your hand?
But what does it matter since I have your hand?
But what does it matter since I have your hand?
 

I Could Never Forget You

Yes, I will wait for you my entire life.
You, my only love on this earth.
 
I could never, ever forget you
from the day when you broke my heart.
Despite the passage of time, for me nothing has changed.
I could never, ever forget you.
 
Deep down, all hope is not dead.
I believe always that you will have regrets.
I know very well that tonight I will wait,
and that tomorrow I will wait for you again.
 
Yes, I will wait for you my entire life.
You, my only love on this earth.
 
Deep down, all hope is not dead.
I believe always that you will have regrets.
I know very well that tonight I will wait,
and that tomorrow, I will wait for you again.
 
I could never, ever forget you.
My heart never wanted to renounce you.
I think that one day, everything can start over again.
I could never, ever forget you.
 
Oh, yes, I will wait for you my entire life.
You, my only love on this earth.
Yes, all my life I will wait only for you.
 

I Love You

Like a day that will come, a grief that will end,
a door that will open, a star that shines.
Like a couple who will unite, a tear that will die,
a child who will grow up, I love only him.
 
I love the brilliant sunshine that breaks out in the sky when he smiles.
I love the fullness of love, the life that courses around him.
I love the immense earth, the night that dances when he is here.
I even like my longing for him to return when he goes away.
 
~~~~~
 
My life is written on his face and time no longer matters.
I love the brilliant sunshine that breaks out in the sky when he smiles.
I love the fullness of love, the life that courses around him.
 
Like a day that will come, a grief that will end,
a door that will open, I love only him.
 

I Believe My Heart

Your heart and my heart are not the same.
Your heart says 'I'm afraid'—my heart says 'I love you.'
You, you hesitate, and I—I believe my heart.
 
I know where I'm going when I look at you.
It is foolish what I have in terms of long-winded ideas.
But you resist and I—I believe my heart.
 
My heart beats faster—my heart is right.
Into my arms, I invite you—come.
 
Only to love you—me, I live a dream.
But you, it seems that you have been trapped.
What should be done? That you believe my heart.
 
My heart beats faster—my heart is right.
Because already you, you change—Aaaahhhh!
 
You believe in my heart and, faced with happiness,
your heart says 'I love you'—my heart says 'I sing.'
Love leads us—love invents us.
And I hear beating in the springtime of our twenties,
your heart with my heart.
 

Woman

Woman—like you, I am a woman.
At little nothings, my heart ignites.
When I am in love, I become a happy woman.
Ready for all of the madness—to leave it all in the middle of the night
and to pursue my opportunities at any cost.
 
Woman—like you, I am a woman.
Melody or melodrama,
sometimes wilful but often a fragile woman.
If sometimes my heart gets bored in his familiar arms,
then it is simply that I am his woman.
 
~~~~~
 
With him, I am a woman, a woman.
 
~~~~~
 
Woman—like you, I am a woman.
At the smallest thing, my heart ignites.
When I am in love, I become a happy woman.
If sometimes my heart gets bored in his familiar arms,
then it is simply that I am his woman.
 
Woman—like you, I am a woman.
The same joy and the same tears
pretend to go away in order to hold onto him—
and never mind if it hurts—all that does not matter.
I become romantic and a woman, his woman to him.
 

It Takes Time

It takes time to forget the faces from the past.
It takes time to arrive at the end of the voyage.
It takes time to stop the onslaught of images.
It takes time to debark for other beautiful shores.
 
Time has lifted me out of your life
like sand running through my fingers.
The wind has erased my footprints.
Now the sky turns gray
as the days grow shorter
as soon as I think of my loves.
How stupid one can seem,
as immobile as a poet
in front of a blank page—
completely blank.
 
It takes time to hope to fall in love again.
It takes time to get used to being happy again.
It takes time to no longer see your smile each night.
It takes time to no longer believe that I can die from it.
 
Like a flower pressed into a bible,
my life fades but remains beautiful.
I hear other voices calling out to me.
I still have loves to live
because I still have many tears left
to confront more misery.
With the day that will soon dawn,
I feel it ascend like well-being,
as if it were a beautiful Sunday—
a beautiful Sunday.
 
It takes time to forget to cry over yourself.
It takes time to get used to saying again I love you—
I love you—
I love you.
 

Them

There is so much joy in their slightest smile.
To watch them live—me, I do not fear for
 
them—in their pure madness, it is their rudeness that speaks for them.
Them—in their naiveté, they have the impudence of people too happy.
Them—to watch them live is to open a book with a sad ending.
Them—it is a myth that he would sacrifice his life for them.
 
Looking at them lost in such a grand love,
my heavy heart cries a sad adieu.
My thoughts stray with a single glance
because this love I knew it as
 
them—in their pure madness, they silently impose on me a faded dream.
Them—in their naiveté, they revive the dance of a buried happiness.
Them—to watch them live for me relives my wilder days.
Them—to take back the myth that offered me a happiness too grand.
 
Looking at them lost in such a grand love,
my heavy heart cries a sad adieu.
My thoughts stray with a single glance
because this love I knew it as
 
them.
 

Dedicated to You

To all the rakes of the earth and to the lost souls like me,
the one I would like to please,
to those who do not love me, I dedicate this—
to washed-up playboys,
to Rosa, Rosine, and to me as well.
 
To he who sees himself in a mirror and in the end no longer sees himself.
To he who does not have mirror and that ends up the same—
he no longer sees himself either.
To all the lonely souls, to all the most miserable ones,
and to lost love.
 
To those who have searched for the answer and who have not found it.
To the mouth I had yesterday.
Dedicated to those who have suffered and have not cried out,
to all prisoners,
to those who have regained their freedom.
 
To the one who wanted my lips and then no longer wanted them.
Dedicated to those who understand
that you have to leave the stage when you have lost—
to Italy, to nostalgia,
and to me as well.
 
But this unimportant song could not end this way,
like a little dance tune, a simple romance—
without dedicating it
to the dead loves that oblivion carries away and to me as well—
to the dead loves that oblivion carries away and to me as well.
 

Enter Without Knocking

If you knew him in the past.
If you just now figured it out.
If you know where he is right now,
enter without knocking at my door.
You are here before anyone else.
Enter without knocking at my door
if you are here to talk to me about him.
 
If you have ever been in love.
If you could not live after
murmuring the first name of the one not here,
enter without knocking at my door.
You are here before anyone else.
Enter without knocking at my door.
We will try to forget him together.
 
If you remember
a love that started up again.
If you know how to manage it,
enter without knocking at my door.
You are here before anyone else.
Enter without knocking at my door.
and give me the secret of life.
 
But if your heart is so big
that it can pursue all my torments.
If you come to give me love again,
enter without knocking at my door.
You are here before anyone else.
Enter without knocking at my door.
I've been waiting for you since
always, always, forever.
 

Two Doves

Like doves beckoned by desire,
and who soar high with their wings,
and spread them out towards the sweet nest
through the air, carried by volition,
as the poet wrote in his Divine Comedy.
 
Like doves, beckoned by desire,
with soaring and steady wings to the sweet nest
fly through the air, carried by their volition—
like doves, beckoned by desire.
 
So our souls, perhaps one day
will soar out two by two towards infinity
through space and time, divinely united,
as they never before were on earth.
 
Like doves, beckoned by desire,
with soaring and steady wings to the sweet nest
fly through the air, carried by their volition—
like doves, beckoned by desire.
 

Between the Lines, Between the Words

Tonight the sea is calm, we can see the islands.
The children know their lessons.
I learned songs for the tourists:
your dog is dead, your sister has a boy.
 
For us, I have no complaints:
we eat very well—we want for nothing.
We eat very well—we want for nothing.
 
I have so many things to tell you that I cannot find the words.
You must read between the lines, between the words.
 
Sunday we danced—it was the celebration
but I'm not invited
because I wait for open house:
my day of celebration when you will come back to me.
 
For us, I have no complaints:
we eat very well—we want for nothing.
We eat very well—we want for nothing.
 
I have so many things to tell you that I cannot find the words.
You must read between the lines, between the words.
 

And Love, Love

A candlestick on the corner of a table,
a wood fire, two shadows, and the wind.
A man, a woman happy to be together
listening to Mozart playing softly.
 
And love, love, love.
Love, love, love, love.
And love, love, love.
Love, love.
 
With words, with regrets, with gestures,
we talk about time and about life.
And after cigarettes upon cigarettes,
the fire flickers out during a last whiskey.
 
And love, love, love.
Love, love, love, love.
And love, love, love.
Love, love.
 
Away from the crowd and the noise on the display of one night,
you recount you life—we go all the way.
We go until the end of a good memory.
You repeat that to yourself before falling asleep.
 
The next day when the alarm goes off,
each of us finds the words to lie.
We write down an address and a phone number.
We part with a smile.
 
And love, love, love.
Love, love, love, love.
And love, love, love.
Love, love.
 
A candlestick on the corner of a table,
a wood fire, two shadows, and the wind.
A man, a woman happy to be together
listening to Mozart playing softly.
 
And love, love, love.
Love, love, love, love.
And love, love, love.
Love, love, love, love.
And love, love, love.
Love, love.
Love, love.
Love, love.
 

Calypso Italiano

Calypso ay! Calypso ay! Calypso italiano!
Calypso si! Calypso si! Calypso siciliano!
 
Do you know that a little wind of madness
blew throughout all of Italy?
In the streets, people dance wildly
to tunes that came from the West Indies.
 
Calypso ay! Calypso ay! Calypso italiano!
Calypso si! Calypso there! Calypso siciliano!
 
Mothers doing laundry
wear vividly colored scarves,
calling out in a placid tone:
'My doudou! My bird of the islands!'
 
Calypso ay! Calypso ay! Calypso italiano!
Calypso si! Calypso there! Calypso siciliano!
 
The suitor who wants to please his piccina
no longer comes to play for her on the mandolin.
She prefers to barcarolles
the beats of Creole songs.
 
Calypso ay! Calypso ay! Calypso italiano!
Calypso si! Calypso si! Calypso siciliano!
 
But one day this little wind of madness
will blow far away from Italy
carrying to distant islands
a thousand serenades from Neapolitan women.
 
Calypso ay! Calypso ay! Calypso italiano!
Calypso si! Calypso oh! Si-ci-li-a-no!
 

Turn Down the Radio

(Please turn down the radio.)
No, no, it is only 5 o'clock in the morning, but you awaken me.
(Please turn down the radio.)
Otherwise, the neighbors will soon tell you the same.
(Please turn down the radio.)
I was dreaming—at last I was sleeping peacefully.
It could not last—you proved to me that you do not change.
 
7 o'clock in the morning and more, I told you already.
(Please turn down the radio.)
We are in the car but you turn it back on.
(Please turn down the radio.)
Will it end soon?
Will it never end?
Answer me instead of whistling along—rather than singing the latest hits.
 
Just so you do not forget, yes, I love Adamo,
and Mireille Mathieu with her principles.
I like Halliday and the others too.
Yes, but I would also like to sleep well at night.
 
Just so you do not forget, yes I love Hugues Aufray.
I like Antoine with his 'oh yé'—
his floral shirts, his harmonica,
and his long hair à la Dalida.
 
We are going on a picnic but never without a radio.
(Please turn down the radio.)
We're going in swimming together—I will sing to you again.
(Please turn down the radio.)
Will it end soon?
Will it never end?
Answer me instead of whistling along—rather than singing the latest hits.
 
As much as you, I love Christophe, I love Claude François,
Hervé Villard, and also Sheila.
I love the Beatles and tutti quanti.
Yes, but I would also like to sleep well at night.
Please turn down the radio.
 
(Please turn down the radio.)
(Please turn down the radio.)
(Please turn down the radio.)
(Please turn down the radio.)
 

With a Fistful of Earth

With a fistful of earth, He created the world.
And when He created the earth, while making his rounds,
the Lord judging that, in short, he lacked the minimum,
He created woman and love and He gave them to men.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, yes, this is true.
 
With a fistful of earth, He created lips,
and your two arms when they clasp me to keep me warm.
And I think at every moment that the one that I love so much,
the Lord made him with only with a fistful of earth.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, yes, this is true.
 
Walking fast, going from here to there,
He gathered up dirt, then rolled up his sleeves,
and with His hands He fashioned the divine sweet and good one—
the one everyone names the eternal woman and love
that He gave to men.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, yes, this is true.
 
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, yes, this is true.