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Day by day

The memories emerge of an erased world
They make me see that the past
Is not responsible for the future
Still a child, I fled my plane and my great woods
Leaving all of my things to me
I don't have anything, and now
 
Day by day, my life drags me like a chain
Without any joy, without any pain
Without hope because without love
Day by day, I go without looking to understand
Nothing, not having anything to listen to
Living my life, day by day
 
A beautiful morning in a cheerful spring sun
Or on a windy night
I'll disappear from the path
Joining hands, I will rise to the heavens
There where the angels of dear God
Are waiting for poor humans
 
Day by day, my life drags me like a chain
Without any joy, without any pain
Without hope because without love
Day by day, I go without looking to understand
Nothing, not having anything to listen to
Living my life, day by day
 

It's been such a long while

It's been such a long while since1
the sky was so very blue,
yet in your eyes I still can see
this bright wonderful land.
 
Sea, desert, sunny palm trees,
where are they now?
It's been such a long while since
we were sixteen and among carefree friends.
 
Our brightest days must have fled
on the boat of our sorrows
and carry our memories with them.
Like a bird coming from afar,
our love made it home
alien to us, as if2 wounded.
 
It's been such a long while since
the sky was so very blue,
yet you are here and I am here
and we hold the hope
of the future in our hands.
 
La la la la...
 
Sea, desert, sunny palm trees,
where are they now?
It's been such a long while since
we were sixteen and among carefree friends.
 
Our brightest days must have fled
on the boat of our sorrows
and carry our memories with them.
Like a bird coming from afar,
our love made it home
alien to us, as if wounded.
 
But there's no use living in bitterness.
We are together and still happy.
Time has fled, another time
is already coming by.
Hope is on its way.
 

• 1. lit. 'the time of [...] is so far away', but I don't think the same construct would work in English
• 2. lit. 'nearly wounded'

One guitar, one life

Parents to love
A town to take a stroll
Poor people to help
Hands for working
Birds to day-dream
A guitar for singing
 
Here is what I received from God
When I was born
la la lalala lalala lalala
 
Friends to lie to
A love to be in pain
A husband to go out
Wrinkles to become ugly
Illnesses to recover
A guitar for weeping
 
Here is what my whole life
Will bring to me
la la lalala lalala lalala
 
A friend to help me
Die without regrets
A family to cry
A wreath to hide
The soil where I'll be buried
With my guitar close to me
 
Here are the memories
I'll keep when I leave
la la lalala lalala lalala
 
But I'm not yet twenty
And my heart sings
A guitar for singing
And your eyes to love
 

Johnny boy

Mom has just finished
The story of Johnny the cowboy
Little Pierre listened
And he fell asleep
The moon shines in the sky
And sheds a light on the little bed
Where the child smiles
Because he has met up with Johnny
Now he is in the pampa 1
His horse is not wooden any more
No more streets, no cars
Only grass and horses
He recaptures with his lasso
The fugitives from his herd
Johnny close to him
Has started to sing cheerfully
Oh... Oh... Oh... Oh...
 
All the horses are now back
Slowly the night has fallen
Cowboy City however
Is not asleep
And the bar is lightened
The village is gathered
The sheriff has arrived
Together with Johnny
The dance has started
Guitars start playing
Harmonicas, violins
Banjos and accordions
The dance is furious
Between two glasses of whisky
People shout yippee!
But little Pierre has awakened
Oh... Oh... Oh... Oh...
 
He must go to school
Keeping only a memory
Of the great prairie
Where Johnny waits for him
But he will go back there
Because that dream is his own
Each night he will fly
Towards his paradise
Where he will meet up with
Parties and rodeos
Songs of the pampa
Johnny and his large hat
Later when worries
Will have invaded his life
The memory of Johnny
Will be sweeter than a girlfriend
Oh... Oh... Oh... Oh...