Georges Moustaki - Loves end one day

Text: Georges Moustaki
Original Title: "Les amours finissent un jour"
Year: 1962

Loves end one day
Lovers only love for a time
What's the point of regretting you
My beautiful love of one summer
Here already comes Winter
Soon the sky will be covered
With big clouds heavier
Than our love sorrow

Loves end one day
Lovers only love for a time
What's the point of thinking to me
There are other men than me
To say the words you expect
To offer you new springs
To forget the past
To make it start over

Loves end one day
Lovers only love for a time
What's the point of tearing each others off
Why suffer or cry
Nothing new under the sun
Everything is so much
So much the same
It'd be better from now on
To forget how we loved one another

Loves end one day
Lovers only love for a time
But us both it was different
We could have loved one another
For a long time, for a long time, for a long time

We could have loved one another
For a long time, for a long time, for a long time
Forever...

Cora Vaucaire's version:

Serge Reggiani - Moustaki - My loneliness

Original Title: "Ma solitude"
Text: Georges Moustaki
Year: 1967

For having slept so often
With my loneliness
I almost made a friend out of her,
A sweet habit

She never leaves me for a second
Faithful like a shadow
She followed me here and there
To the four corners of the earth

Oh no, no, no, I'm never alone
With my loneliness

When she is at the hollow of my bed
She takes all the space
And we spend long nights
Both facing each other

I do not know up to where
this accomplice will go
Will I have to grow a taste for it
Or will I have to react

Oh no, no, no, I'm never alone
With my loneliness

Through her I have learned as much
Than I have shed tears
If sometimes I repudiate her
Never does she disarm

And if I prefer the love
Of another cortesan
She'd be at my last day
My last companion

Oh no, no, no, I'm never alone
With my loneliness.

No, no, no, no I'll never be alone
With my loneliness.

Moustaki's version:

Serge Reggiani - Georges Moustaki - Your daughter is twenty years old

Original Title: "Votre fille a vingt ans"
Text: Georges Moustaki

Year: 1968, 1970 (Moustaki's release)

Your daugther is twenty years old, how time is flying by
Madam, yesterday still she was so small
And her first torments are your first wrinkles
Madam, and your first worries

Each of her twenty years counted twice for you
You know already all what she is discovering
You have forgotten the things which trouble her
Madam, and troubled as well

People thought she was pretty and here she is beautiful
For an individual almost as young as her
A boy who resembles to the one for whom
Madam, you had grown in beauty

They make for themselves a garden from a corner of bad weeds
Knotting the prime of life into a superb bouquet
It has been a long while that you have been put in a spray
Madam, spring is forgetting about you

Each night which seems to you similar to every night
While you are dreaming your reasonable dreams
Of pleasure and of love they make themselves guilty
Madam, in the hollow of the same bed

But guilty ones never had so much innocence
So little regrets and so little concern
That they do not even ask for you indulgence
Madam, for their tender offence

Up to the day when maybe at the first tear
At the first love's and woman's sorrow
It'll be up to you to smile Madam
Madam, for her to smile at you.
for her to smile at you.

Moustaki's version:

Serge Reggiani - Moustaki - This evening, my love

Original Title: "Ce soir mon amour"
Text: George Moustaki
Year: 1973 (Reggiani's album), 1974 (Moustaki's album)

This evening my love, I do not love you anymore
You are further than the distance between us
And even more absent because you are nowhere
More a stranger than the first to come along

This evening my love I do not look for you anymore
Among my memories at the bottom of my memory
I do not wait for you anymore on the platform of any station
I barely remember having waited for you there

I know that we were drinking wine after love
That our nights started when the day rose
Like a torrent of ebony your hair on your neck
And your hurt gaze when you make sheep eyes

This evening my love I do not cheat on you anymore
with that girl sleeping by my side
I was alone I asked her to stay
I'm alone very often and I get used to it

This evening my love I do not miss you anymore
I do not miss you. I miss loving
not being useless, inanimate
having nothing to lose and having lost everything

I know your madness I know your modesty
I know that we look alike like brother and sister
I know your smell, I know your perfume
I know you by heart and I do not know anything nomore

About you my love whom I do not love anymore
without succeeding to finally feel free
Alike to a dancer who would lose balance
Like a prince into disgrace, like a fallen angel.

Barbara & Moustaki - The brown haired lady

Original Title: "La Dame Brune"
Year: 1967

For a long brown haired lady, I've invented
a song in the moonlight, a few verses
If she ever hears it, she'll know
that it is a love song for her and me

I'm the long brown haired lady that you are waiting for
I'm the long brown haired lady and I hear you
Sing again in the moonlight, I come toward you
your guitar, makeshift organ, guides my steps

Pierrot had lent me his pen that morning
I took the A from my makeshift guitar
I thought myself a poet by writing
the words going through my head like the wind

Pierrot had lent you his pen that night,
On your makeshift guitar you took the A
And I took you for a poet by listening
to the words going through your head like the wind

I dressed the dark haired lady, in my thoughts
with pieces of a veil of mist and of dew
I made her bed against my skin for her to feel at home
Sheltered and warm between my hands

Dressed with a veil of mist and dew
I'm the tall brown haired lady of your thought
Sing again in the moonlight, I come toward you
Through the mounts and dunes, I hear your voice

For a long brown haired lady, I've invented
a song in the moonlight, a few verses
I know she'll hear it one day, who knows maybe tomorrow
so that this love song ends well

Good morning, I'm the brown haired lady, I walked so much
Good morning, I'm the brown haired lady, I found you
Make me a place in the hollow of your bed, I'll be fine
In the warmth and well sheltered against your waist