Léo Ferré - The artist's life

Original Title: "La vie d'artiste"
Year: 1950

I met you by chance,
here, elsewhere or somewhere else
Maybe you remember it
Without knowing each other we fell in love
And even if it's not true
One has to believe in the ancient stories.
I gave you what I had:
What to sing, what to dream
And you believed in my Bohemia
But if you thought at twenty years old
That one can live of the spirit of time
Your point of view is not the same

This infamous end of the month
Which since we are you and me
Is coming back seven times a week
And our evenings without cinema
And my success which is not coming
And our uncertain means of sustenance

You see I haven't forgotten anything
In this statement of affair sad to make one cry
Which records our failure
You still have nice days ahead of you
Enjoy them my poor love
Beautiful years are passing by fast.

And now you are going away
Both we are going to grow old
Each for himself how sad that is
You can take the record player away
Me, I'll keep the piano
I continue my life of an artist

Later, without knowing why
A foreigner, a clumsy man
Reading my name on a poster
Will talk to you of my successes
But a little sad, you, who knows
You'll tell him that I flaunt myself.

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