Original Title: "Notre amour"
Text: Léo Ferré
Year: 1953
As long as we will write our names
On the sick trees of Fall
Birds will be able to sing
We will be able to love one another
I am the one you are waiting for
I am the one who loves you so much
For a long time
Oh such a long time
If it happened that you forgot me
You know that I, I will never forget
When our names will be withered
On the sick trees of Fall
The birds will be able to leave
We will be able to die of it
I was the one you are waiting for
I was the one who loved you so much
For a long time
Oh such a long time
It happened that you forgot me
Know that I, I will never forget
Because my love is stronger
Than love.
Text: Jacques Prévert
Slightly modified translation from: http://parolesinenglish.wordpress.com/
Year: 1949 (First reading by Montand), 1953 (first sung by Y. Montand), 1966 (Reggiani's version)
Remember Barbara
It was raining ceaselessly on Brest that day
And you were walking smiling
Beaming, delighted, dripping
Under the rain
Remember Barbara
It was raining ceaselessly on Brest
And I passed you in the rue de Siam
You were smiling
And me I was smiling the same smile
Remember Barbara
You who I didn’t know
You who didn’t know me
Remember
Remember that day anyway
Don’t forget
A man under an overhang was taking shelter
And he yelled your name
Barbara
And you ran to him under the rain
Dripping delighted beaming
And you threw yourself in his arms
Remember that Barbara
And don’t be mad if I speak to you familiarly
I speak familiarly to everyone I love
Even if I’ve only seen them once
I speak familiarly to everyone in love
Even if I don’t know them
Remember Barbara
Don’t forget
This good and happy rain
On your happy face
On this happy city
This rain on the sea
On the naval arsenal
On the boat from Ouessant
Oh Barbara
What a bullshit, war
What’s become of you now
Under this rain of iron
Of fire of steel of blood
And the one who took you in his arms
Lovingly
Is he dead, disappeared or yet still living
Oh Barbara
It’s raining ceaselessly on Brest
Like it rained before
But it’s no longer the same and everything’s damaged
It’s a rain of mourning terrible and desolate
It's not even a storm
Of iron of steel of blood anymore
Simply some clouds
That die like dogs
Dogs who disappear
Along the water over Brest
And go to rot far away
Far away very far away from Brest
Of which nothing remains.
Original Title: "Il n'y a pas d'amour heureux"
Text: Louis Aragon (1943)
Year: 1953
Nothing is ever a given to man
Neither his strength, nor his weakness, nor his heart.
and when he thinks opening his arms
His shadow is the one of a cross
And when he wants to hug his happiness, he crushes it.
His life is a weird and painful divorce
There are no happy love
His life it looks like those weaponless soldiers
Who had been dressed for another destiny
What good would it do them to get up in the morning.
Them who you find in the evening disarmed, unsure
Say those words "My life" and hold back your tears
There are no happy love
My beautiful love, my dear love, my tearing
I carry you inside of me like a wounded bird
And those there, unknowing, are watching us walk by
Repeating after me those words I've weaved
And which for your big eyes died right away.
There are no happy love
Time to learn how to live, it's already too late
Let our heart cry at night in unison
What is needed of regrets to pay a shiver
What is needed of misfortune for a single song
What is needed of sobs for a guitar tune
