Original Title: "La jeune fille blonde"
Year: 2002
Thus here is the age shooting pain
I am not crying thank you
But while the shadow moves forward
I must say thank you
I pay my dues without delay
The wind signs me a receipt
Sing that song or ash
Let it be a buried treasure
Thank you for the ancient joy
Oh old tired country
Those wounds those bleeding scabs
To the people, to the poplar grove
Which dresses its ill, which sings
Old country, set table
Or heavy vans stopped
Full of aromatic tears
Thank you, thank you for the childhood
Our story not worthy of twenty pennies
And for the little France,
For the united hands so sweet
Country, the peace, the trust
Two thousand years of hollow path
The sufferings, their sufferings
Hope and the happy people
Ah the young blond girl
Forever mixed with me
All those struggles, those revolts
And our winged youth
The suffering, the suffering
All that buried sorrow
Then the sap and everything begins
The people, The poplar grove
And the fertile revolt
The nice idea of harmony
Beautiful girl, my harvesting
Ah the beautiful spoilt rotten children
The beautiful wheats, the beautiful arpeggios
The beautiful roundup of words
Our souls were of snow
And your head to the birds songs
Beautiful country, ancient song
The people, The poplar grove
The joy, the joy full the plain
And the young girl in May
No comments:
Post a Comment