Catherine Le Forestier - In the country of your body

Original Title: "Au pays de ton corps"
Year: 1971

La la la...

I know a country, it looks like a garden
I can live there naked without ever being cold
When I close the eyes, I find there under my fingers
All the paths
I have the bottom of your eyes to look for gold
The colour of your skin to read the seasons
The hollow of your shoulder as horizon line
And all around me your arms are making the decor
At the country of your body
At the country of your body
At the country of your body

La la la...

I have seen marvels there and biggest mysteries
Than summer in december or snow in may
It seems to me that more I know it
more I get lost into it
And if it measures barely one meter eighty
I make there a longer way with a single kiss
Than do, in the sky, men and their rockets
It's a country where one travels with the hands
The country of your body
The country of your body
The country of your body

La la la...

I know a country, it looks like a garden
I can live there naked without ever being cold
When I close the eyes, I find there under my fingers
All the paths
I have the bottom of your eyes to look for gold
The colour of your skin to read the seasons
The hollow of your shoulder as horizon line
When lazily I roll up and fall asleep

At the country of your body
At the country of your body
At the country of your body

Catherine Le Forestier - The red bedroom

Original Title: "La Chambre Rouge"
Year: 1969

I remember that the bedroom was red
Like a mouth, like a sun
And that you were the first one, mister the thief
Velvet Mister, Mister my love
And that you were the first one, mister the stranger
Do you remember?

Pass the days, my loves grow weary of them
Pass the nights, my loves are bored
without you

I remember that the bedroom was red
The lamp sweet, the bed deep
And that you were the first one to have carried me
At the hollow of your hands
At the edge of the morning
And that you were the first one, mister the stranger
Do you remember?

Pass the days, my loves grow weary of them
Pass the nights, my loves are bored
without you

I remember that the bedroom was red
The lamp turned off, the bed stripped
And that the door closed, I didn't know the words that had to be said
And that the door closed, if I cried from it
I can well laugh of it

Pass the days, my loves grow weary of them
Pass the nights, my loves are bored
without you

Maxime and Catherine Le Forestier - The sentimental education

Original Title: "L'éducation sentimentale"
Year: 1972

Tonight in the mist
We'll go, my brunette
pick up oaths
This wild flower
that wreaks havoc
In children hearts
For you, my princess,
I'd make braids out of it
And in your hair
These oaths, my beauty,
will turn you cruel
toward your lovers

Tomorrow at dawn
We'll go once again
glean in the fields
pick up promisses
Flowers of tenderness
And of feeling
And up the hill
In the waterfowls
You will lay down
Into my arms, my dear,
Moonlit
You will give yourself

It's at twillight,
When the dragonfly
falls asleep in the swamp
that we will have to, my neighbor,
leave the hill
And quickly come back
Don't say a word, my brunette,
Not even to the moon,
And I, on my own,
will go single-handed,
I will remain quiet
I won't say a word

Tonight in the mist
We'll go, my brunette
pick up oaths
This wild flower
that wreaks havoc
In children hearts
For you, my princess,
I'd make braids out of it
And in your hair
These oaths, my beauty,
will turn you cruel
toward your lovers