Dalszöveg fordítások

Georges Brassens - dalszöveg fordítás angol nyelvre


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The health bulletin

I lost my jowls, I lost my paunch
And this in a way so clear, so sudden
That some suppose I have in me an evil that does not forgive
Who laughs at Aesculapius and leaves him stunned
 
The Loch Ness monster no longer bringing its dime
During hollow times in certain gazettes
Systematically, obituaries like
To shroud me under sausage wrapper1
 
Now, tired of serving as a punching ball
Of the gloomy tales I'm the star of 2
I, who am well, who breathes health
I step forward and scream the whole truth
 
All the truth, gentlemen, I deliver it to you
If I left the ranks of the over-two-hundred-pounds
It's the because of Mimi, Lisette, Ninon
And many others, I don't remember names
 
If I betrayed the fat, the chubby, the obese
It's that I fuck, that I fuck, that I fuck
Like a buck, a ram, a beast, a brute
I am haunted: the heat, the heat, the heat, the heat
 
Let me be understood, I have the soul of a satyr
And his behavior, but that doesn't mean
That I have the talent, the genius, far from it
Not a single one yet shouted “bravo!' to me
 
Among other fine flowers, I count on my pink
List a decent number of journalists' wives
Who, thinking I'm done, put all their faith
To give me happiness one last time
 
It's beautiful, it's generous, it's big, it's magnificent
And, in the most pornographic positions
I give them the honors with the buttocks down
On piles of drafts, piles of unsold
 
And that's what makes that when your legitimate (wife)
Show their buttocks to the people as well as to your intimate friends
You can often read, printed backwards
The echoes, the little gossip, the in-briefs
 
And if you hear surging through the plinths
From the boudoir of these ladies groans and complaints
Do not say: 'It is Uncle Georges who is expiring'
It's just the angels who sigh 3
 
And if you hear screaming like in (nineteen)fourteen
'Arise ! Arise the dead! », Do not bulge the torso
It's the exalted wife of an editor
Which prompts me to assault once again
 
Certainly, it happens to me, flip side
To sometimes leave feathers in battle
Hippocrates says: 'Yes, these are cockscombs'
And Gallien replies: 'No, it's gonococci'
 
Both are right, sometimes Venus gives you
Wicked kicks that a good Christian forgives
Because if they cause harm to manly attributes
They seldom endanger existence
 
Well, yes, I have all that, ransom of my frenzy
The boat for Kythera is quarantined
But I haven't yet, no, no, no, three times no
This mysterious evil whose name we hide
 
If I betrayed the fat, the chubby, the obese
It's that I fuck, that I fuck, that I fuck
Like a buck, a ram, a beast, a brute
I am haunted: the heat, the heat, the heat, the heat
 
  • 1. Litt: 'Cabbage leaves', newspapers
  • 2. Untranslatable, 'À dormir debout' means 'unbelievable', so here unbelievable + gloomy
  • 3. Euphemism for 'Orgasm'


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An old story, you and I, once in love, a perfect tie.
We were happy, heart to heart, but now we’ve fallen apart.
I’m just a memory—get used to it!
Go to her now, let anger hit.
 

Run away, just leave me be.
I’ve had enough of your lies, you see.
You deserve to be alone in pain
No turning back—it’s all in vain.
 

At night, you’d call me, craving more.
With her, was it better than before?
My number’s gone, don’t try to find,
I’ve left it all behind.
 

When I was hurting, where did you stay?
With someone else, you chose to play.
Drink all you want—it won’t make me care.
Search for me, but I’m not there.
 

Remember the days I hid my tears?
Now you burn with the same fears.
Keep your words, they mean no more,
You killed the love we had before.
 


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Starting a long journey...
Opening a new page
 

I will win! (Win!)
Pokémon for the advanced!
(The advanced!)
I will win! (Win!)
I will touch the clouds...
And I'll prove to everyone...
Who's the best, the best in the world...
I will win!
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Heavenly clouds





Oh, heavenly clouds, eternal wanderers!
Over an azure steppe, a pearly brethren
Akin to myself, you travelers hasten
From the dear north to course southern.
 

Then who is exiling you: is it fate’s verdict?
Is it the envy concealed? Is it malice in the open?
Or is there a crime that levees a burden?
Could it be slander by friends that is poison?
 

No, you are fatigued by fields that stay barren…
Foreign are passions to you and the suffering alien
Always cold-bloodied, always independent,
You have no homeland, know not of banishment.
 


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The solitary man of the night





The solitary man of the night, I am
The seal of silence upon my lips
I have departed, solitary and dejected
Severed my heart from the all
The loneliest of the lonely, sorrowful and disgraced
The one alone and without a tomorrow, that is me
The solitary man of the night, I am
The seal of silence upon my lips
 

The solitary man of the night, I am
Hundreds of untold stories linger on my lips
I have departed from your city
Packed my rucksack and left
Without the worry of tomorrow, with only myself, alone
The wanderer of these nights, that is who I am
Without the worry of tomorrow, with only myself, alone
The wanderer of these nights, that is who I am
 

The solitary man of the night, I am
The seal of silence upon my lips
The solitary man of the night, I am
Hundreds of untold stories linger on my lips