Félix Leclerc - The small happiness

Original Title: "Le petit bonheur"
Year: 1950

It was a small happiness
That I had picked up
It was all in tears
On the side of a ditch
When it saw me pass
It started to shout
"Mister pick me up
At your home bring me

My brothers have forgotten me, I fell I am sick
If you do not pick me up I will die. What a ballad!
I will make myself small, tender and submissive, I swear
Mister, I beg you, deliver me from my torture!"

I took the small happiness
Put it under my rags
I said "It must not die
Come over to my house."
Then the small happiness
made his recovery
On the side of my heart
There was a song.

My days, my nights, my sorrows, my mournings, my ill, everything was forgotten
My idle life, I was disgusted to go on with it.
When it was raining outside or that my friends made me sad
I took my small happiness and I told her "It's your my queen!"

My happiness blossomed
It made buds
It was paradise
It was visible on my forehead
But a pretty morning
That I was whistling that refrain
My happiness left without holding my hand

However much I beg it, cuddle it, make a scene,
Show it the big hole that it was making at the bottom of my heart,
It was still going away, head high, without joy, without hate
As if it could not see the sun anymore in my home.

I well thought about dieing
Of sorrow and boredom
I ceased laughing
It was always the night
I had oblivion left
I had contempt left
Finally I told myself
I have life left!

I took my staff back, my mournings, my sorrows and my rags
And I stamped my feet in countries of unfortunate people
Today when I see a fountain or a girl
I make a big detour or I close my eyes
I make a big detour or I close my eyes