Jean-Roger Caussimon - On a wish by Paul Eluard

Original Title: "Sur un voeu"
Year: 1977

Any caress, any trust survive themselves
Those words so simple made of light
Were written by Paul Eluard
More fervent words than a prayer
And louder than a shout
They are stronger than invectives
Than violence or contempt
They spurted out like flowing water
There speaks the heart before the mind

Any caress, any trust survive themselves
Where are the singing futures
And that forever promised happiness
In the indifferent cities
Everybody thinks he sees his enemies
But if by chance it happens
To glimpse a friendly gaze
Among so many fleeing shadows
Let that gaze be passed on

Any caress, any trust survive themselves
For the motherly lulaby
The voice of the father at home
And for the memory of the one
Who loved you more than reason
Let nothing drift off
And let the happiness of a moment
Write itself on a sky of future
And shines with time
Any caress, any trust survive themselves

Anne Vanderlove - Tell me

Original Title: "Dites-moi"
Year: 1967

Tell me, you had it though the heart for laughing
Tell me, you had it though the heart between your teeth
And then from the heart to the eyes so many things to say
When you were the color of the Grand Meaulnes and the wind
But from sand to dunes, and from falls to rains
Grand Meaulnes fled away
And your frail teenage years followed him

Tell me, you had it though the heart for laughing
Tell me, you had it though the heart between your teeth
When you were shown the big words in the books
Those that toppled down the walls and make children grow older
But the children are dead and the rifles rusty
The neglected paths
And already on the stone
Grass closed in

Tell me, you had it though the heart for laughing
Tell me, you had it though the heart between your teeth
And then from the heart to the eyes so many things to say
That you could have well done better really
Tell me, what have you done with so many seasons?
Your gardens, without further ado
are tearing your heart up
With heavy blows of thistle

Mouloudji - Verrières - My pal the Gipsy

Original Title: "Mon pot' le gitan"
Text: Jacques Verrières
Music: Marc Heyral
Year: 1955

My pal the Gipsy is an odd fellow
A mug all black, eyes all blue
He stays for hours without saying a word
Sitting beside the stove, at the bottom of the bistrot
That guy, a caravan wanders in his head,
And when it travels, never does it stop
A whole bunch of sceneries come out of his eyes
My pal the Gipsy, is one odd fellow

My pal the Gipsy is not a funny guy
And in our bistrot, noboby understands him
Like all those guys, he has his guitar
A dirty guitar which makes you brood
When he starts playing, the old caravan
runs wild in his head, the belote players stops
And nothing no more, we hurt inside.
My pal the Gipsy is not a funny guy

My pal the Gipsy left one day
And God only knows where he trails his life
That guy was a great musician
That I was certain of, I felt it
The boss told me someone came looking for him
A great music hall wanted to buy him
My pal the Gipsy, he refused, a shrug, and he left

I had the feeling to lose a friend,
And yet that guy never told me anything
But he left me a piece of his caravan
And in my small head, there is some dream wandering
His weird music, stayed inside of me
When I think of him, it happens I sing
You, damn Gipsy who smelled of the blues
Afterall your music was full of hope.