<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761</id><updated>2011-09-02T13:43:27.101+01:00</updated><category term='Khaled'/><category term='Pop'/><category term='Canadian-Mexican'/><category term='Lone Justice'/><category term='Jane Birkin'/><category term='Enrico Macias'/><category term='Faudel'/><category term='Jeanne Cherhal'/><category term='English'/><category term='Les VRP'/><category term='Souad Massi'/><category term='Mecano'/><category term='Dominique A'/><category term='Zouk'/><category term='Zaz'/><category term='Coeur de Pirate'/><category term='Sanseverino'/><category term='World Music'/><category term='Senegal'/><category term='Les Têtes Raides'/><category term='Noir Désir'/><category term='Renan Luce'/><category term='Soumia'/><category term='Jeanne Moreau'/><category term='Pink Martini'/><category term='Georges Brassens'/><category term='La Tordue'/><category term='Vanessa Paradis'/><category term='Latifa'/><category term='Greek'/><category term='American'/><category term='Georges Moustaki'/><category term='Raï'/><category term='Henri Salvador'/><category term='Québécois'/><category term='Rock'/><category term='Chanson'/><category term='Julio Iglesias'/><category term='Serge Gainsbourg'/><category term='Françoise Hardy'/><category term='British'/><category term='Marie Laforêt'/><category term='Belgian'/><category term='Yann Tiersen'/><category term='Spanish'/><category term='La Rue Ketanou'/><category term='Algerian'/><category term='French-Italian'/><category term='Pauline Croze'/><category term='Anaïs'/><category term='Coralie Clément'/><category term='International'/><category term='Téléphone'/><category term='Tunisian'/><category term='Elissa'/><category term='Kat Flint'/><category term='Tiken Jah Fakoly'/><category term='Jean-Louis Aubert'/><category term='Brigitte Fontaine'/><category term='Moroccan'/><category term='Oldelaf et Monsieur D'/><category term='Camelia Jordana'/><category term='Camille'/><category term='Armenian'/><category term='Lhasa de Sela'/><category term='Carla Bruni'/><category term='Cheb Mami'/><category term='French'/><category term='Charles Aznavour'/><category term='Jacques Brel'/><category term='Pigalle'/><category term='Mylène Farmer'/><category term='Nana Mouskouri'/><category term='Barbara'/><category term='Les Ogres de Barback'/><category term='Ismael Lo'/><category term='Saber Robaey'/><category term='Côte d&apos;Ivoire'/><category term='Emilie Simon'/><category term='Ishtar'/><category term='Natacha Atlas'/><category term='Zazie'/><category term='Emily Loizeau'/><category term='Olivia Ruiz'/><category term='Lebanese'/><category term='Ariane Moffatt'/><category term='Fréhel'/><category term='Arabic Music'/><category term='Reggae'/><category term='Riccardo Cocciante'/><title type='text'>Frenchlations</title><subtitle type='html'>Translations of French songs into English&lt;br&gt;Raï, Chanson, World, Reggae...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>86</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-3843232612415659341</id><published>2010-09-24T19:45:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-24T19:46:51.996+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Coralie Clément'/><title type='text'>Coralie Clément - It's lifeC'est la vie</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/thDU6HTaPBM?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=fr_FR"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/thDU6HTaPBM?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=fr_FR" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's life&lt;br /&gt;It's the life we're living&lt;br /&gt;No directions given by the passers-by&lt;br /&gt;It's life&lt;br /&gt;It's life this bitch&lt;br /&gt;Which will make us stay the same&lt;br /&gt;It's life&lt;br /&gt;It's life anyway&lt;br /&gt;Ille et Vilaine is not so bad&lt;br /&gt;It's life&lt;br /&gt;It's the life we're living&lt;br /&gt;Anxiolytics and coffee with cream&lt;br /&gt;Life which burns our idols&lt;br /&gt;A crane in the school yard&lt;br /&gt;Me I don't forget&lt;br /&gt;Our first steps&lt;br /&gt;I don't forget&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's life&lt;br /&gt;It's the life we're living&lt;br /&gt;We are swimming in our blood, it's fine&lt;br /&gt;It's life&lt;br /&gt;It's life anyway &lt;br /&gt;We would like to drink water from the fountains&lt;br /&gt;It's life&lt;br /&gt;It's a bohemian life &lt;br /&gt;At night, we prefer the neon signs&lt;br /&gt;It's life&lt;br /&gt;It's life this bitch&lt;br /&gt;It's time to ask for directions&lt;br /&gt;Life which is burning our idols&lt;br /&gt;Like summer burns the wild grass&lt;br /&gt;Me I don't forget&lt;br /&gt;Our first steps&lt;br /&gt;I don't forget either&lt;br /&gt;The first clash&lt;br /&gt;The first crude words&lt;br /&gt;And these slaps in the face&lt;br /&gt;On the sofa-bed...&lt;br /&gt;I'm running in the puddles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;C’est la vie&lt;br /&gt;C’est la vie qu’on mène&lt;br /&gt;Aucun passant ne nous renseigne&lt;br /&gt;C’est la vie&lt;br /&gt;C’est la vie cette chienne&lt;br /&gt;Qui fait qu’on restera nous même&lt;br /&gt;C’est la vie&lt;br /&gt;C’est la vie quand même&lt;br /&gt;C’est pas vilain l'Ille et Vilaine&lt;br /&gt;C’est la vie&lt;br /&gt;C’est la vie qu’on mène&lt;br /&gt;Anxiolytiques et café crème&lt;br /&gt;La vie qui brûle nos idoles&lt;br /&gt;Une grue dans la cour de l'école&lt;br /&gt;Moi je n’oublie pas&lt;br /&gt;Nos premier pas&lt;br /&gt;Je n'oublie pas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C’est la vie&lt;br /&gt;C’est la vie qu’on mène&lt;br /&gt;On baigne dans son sang tout baigne&lt;br /&gt;C’est la vie&lt;br /&gt;C’est la vie quand même&lt;br /&gt;On voudrait boire l'eau des fontaines&lt;br /&gt;C’est la vie&lt;br /&gt;C’est la vie bohème&lt;br /&gt;La nuit qu’on préfère les enseignes&lt;br /&gt;C’est la vie&lt;br /&gt;C’est la vie cette chienne&lt;br /&gt;Il est grand temps qu'on se renseigne&lt;br /&gt;La vie qui brûle nos idoles&lt;br /&gt;Comme l'été brûle l'herbe folle&lt;br /&gt;Moi je n’oublie pas&lt;br /&gt;Nos premiers pas&lt;br /&gt;Je n’oublie pas non plus&lt;br /&gt;Le premier clash&lt;br /&gt;Les premiers mots crus&lt;br /&gt;Et cette paire de claques&lt;br /&gt;Sur le clic clac...clac&lt;br /&gt;Je cours dans les flaques    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-3843232612415659341?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/3843232612415659341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2010/09/coralie-clement-its-life-cest-la-vie.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/3843232612415659341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/3843232612415659341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2010/09/coralie-clement-its-life-cest-la-vie.html' title='Coralie Clément - It&apos;s life&lt;br&gt;C&apos;est la vie'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-8447734323785539573</id><published>2010-09-19T18:19:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-19T18:25:41.266+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brigitte Fontaine'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Brigitte Fontaine - Prohibition</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/OxuCxSdTH7U?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=fr_FR"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OxuCxSdTH7U?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=fr_FR" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was showing my senior card&lt;br /&gt;Under the mocking looks of those pigs&lt;br /&gt;Who started an obscene laugh&lt;br /&gt;At my siren shape&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am old and go fuck yourselves&lt;br /&gt;With my style of dragonfly &lt;br /&gt;I am old and I'm going to die&lt;br /&gt;A small forgotten detail&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go your own way you bastards&lt;br /&gt;Quickly go to the buffet car&lt;br /&gt;I will smoke my cigarette&lt;br /&gt;Quietly in the toilet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prohibition is everywhere&lt;br /&gt;Alcohol on television&lt;br /&gt;Papers, fags, lack of cash&lt;br /&gt;And getting old in public places&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prohibition is everywhere&lt;br /&gt;Words and screams, fornication&lt;br /&gt;Semen forbidden at 60 years old&lt;br /&gt;Or else scandal and giggles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am old and go fuck yourselves&lt;br /&gt;With my style of dragonfly &lt;br /&gt;I am old and I'm going to die&lt;br /&gt;A small forgotten detail&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sick people are prohibited&lt;br /&gt;Disposed of in the ditches&lt;br /&gt;Unless they're worth a dime,&lt;br /&gt;Cash for the wealthiest&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old people are discarded&lt;br /&gt;Put to the asylum, to the castle of oblivion&lt;br /&gt;Here is what's waiting for me tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;If I ever loose my way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have other perspectives, you see&lt;br /&gt;I am going to have sex, to drink and smoke&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to invent myself other skies&lt;br /&gt;Always wider and more precious&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am old and go fuck yourselves&lt;br /&gt;With my style of dragonfly&lt;br /&gt;I am old,fearing neither god nor man&lt;br /&gt;If I die, it will be of happiness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;J'exhibais ma carte senior&lt;br /&gt;Sous les yeux goguenards des porcs&lt;br /&gt;Qui partirent d'un rire obscène&lt;br /&gt;Vers ma silhouette de sirène&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je suis vieille et je vous encule&lt;br /&gt;Avec mon look de libellule&lt;br /&gt;Je suis vieille et je vais crever&lt;br /&gt;Un petit détail oublié&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passez votre chemin, bâtards&lt;br /&gt;Et filez vite au wagon-bar&lt;br /&gt;Je fumerai ma cigarette&lt;br /&gt;Tranquillement dans les toilettes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Partout c'est la prohibition&lt;br /&gt;Alcool à la télévision&lt;br /&gt;Papiers, clopes, manque de fric&lt;br /&gt;Et vieillir dans les lieux publics&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Partout c'est la prohibition&lt;br /&gt;Parole et cris, fornication&lt;br /&gt;Foutre interdit à 60 ans&lt;br /&gt;Ou scandale et ricanements&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je suis vieille et je vous encule&lt;br /&gt;Avec mon look de libellule&lt;br /&gt;Je suis vieille et je vais crever&lt;br /&gt;Un petit détail oublié&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les malades sont prohibés&lt;br /&gt;On les jette dans les fossés&lt;br /&gt;A moins qu'ils n'apportent du blé,&lt;br /&gt;De la thune aux plus fortunés&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les vieux sont jetés aux orties&lt;br /&gt;A l'asile, au château d'oubli&lt;br /&gt;Voici ce qui m'attend demain&lt;br /&gt;Si jamais je perds mon chemin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai d'autres projets, vous voyez&lt;br /&gt;Je vais baiser, boire et fumer&lt;br /&gt;Je vais m'inventer d'autres cieux&lt;br /&gt;Toujours plus vastes et précieux&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je suis vieille et je vous encule&lt;br /&gt;Avec mon look de libellule&lt;br /&gt;Je suis vieille, sans foi ni loi&lt;br /&gt;Si je meurs, ce sera de joie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-8447734323785539573?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/8447734323785539573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2010/09/brigitte-fontaine-prohibition.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/8447734323785539573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/8447734323785539573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2010/09/brigitte-fontaine-prohibition.html' title='Brigitte Fontaine - Prohibition'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-8568894132494630052</id><published>2010-09-15T22:50:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T22:50:00.129+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Zaz'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Zaz - The FairyLa fée</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Z4nX5uLbx8w?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=fr_FR"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Z4nX5uLbx8w?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=fr_FR" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me too, I have a fairy at home&lt;br /&gt;Out on the dripping gutters&lt;br /&gt;I found her on a roof&lt;br /&gt;Wrapped in her burning train &lt;br /&gt;It was one morning, it was smelling coffee&lt;br /&gt;Everything was covered with frost&lt;br /&gt;She was hidden under a book&lt;br /&gt;And the moon was ending up drunk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me too, I have a fairy at home&lt;br /&gt;And her train is burned&lt;br /&gt;She must know that she can't, that she will never be able to fly again&lt;br /&gt;Others tried before her&lt;br /&gt;Before you, another one was here&lt;br /&gt;I found her folded up under her wings&lt;br /&gt;I thought she was cold&lt;br /&gt;From my bookshelves, she's looking up&lt;br /&gt;At the TV, believing that war is outside&lt;br /&gt;She reads different magazines,&lt;br /&gt;And stays at home&lt;br /&gt;By the window, counting hours&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me too, I have a fairy at home&lt;br /&gt;And when she's having breakfast&lt;br /&gt;She makes a noise with her toasted wings&lt;br /&gt;And I know she is disturbed&lt;br /&gt;But I prefer to kiss her or keep her between my fingers&lt;br /&gt;Me too, I have a fairy at home&lt;br /&gt;Who would like to fly but is not able to... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Moi aussi j'ai une fée chez moi&lt;br /&gt;sur les gouttières ruisselantes&lt;br /&gt;je l'ai trouvée sur un toit&lt;br /&gt;dans sa traine brulante&lt;br /&gt;c'était un matin, ça sentait le café&lt;br /&gt;tout était recouvert de givre&lt;br /&gt;elle s'était cachée sous un livre&lt;br /&gt;et la lune finissait ivre&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moi aussi j'ai une fée chez moi&lt;br /&gt;et sa traine est brulée&lt;br /&gt;elle doit bien savoir qu'elle ne peut pas, ne pourra jamais plus voler&lt;br /&gt;d'autres ont essayés avant elle&lt;br /&gt;avant toi une autre était là&lt;br /&gt;je l'ai trouvé repliée sous ses ailes&lt;br /&gt;et j'ai cru qu'elle avait froid&lt;br /&gt;Moi aussi j'ai une fée chez moi&lt;br /&gt;depuis mes étagères elle regarde en l'air&lt;br /&gt;la télévision en pensant que dehors c'est la guerre&lt;br /&gt;elle lit des périodiques divers&lt;br /&gt;et reste à la maison&lt;br /&gt;à la fenêtre, comptant les heures&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moi aussi j'ai une fée chez moi&lt;br /&gt;et lorsqu'elle prend son déjeuner&lt;br /&gt;elle fait un bruit avec ses ailes grillées&lt;br /&gt;et je sais bien qu'elle est déréglée&lt;br /&gt;mais je préfère l'embrasser ou la tenir entre mes doigts&lt;br /&gt;Moi aussi j'ai une fée chez moi&lt;br /&gt;qui voudrait voler mais ne le peut pas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-8568894132494630052?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/8568894132494630052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2010/09/zaz-fairy-la-fee.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/8568894132494630052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/8568894132494630052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2010/09/zaz-fairy-la-fee.html' title='Zaz - The Fairy&lt;br&gt;La fée'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-4063942392053282878</id><published>2010-09-13T22:21:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T22:31:30.748+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emily Loizeau'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Emily Loizeau - I am jealousJe suis jalouse</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/X2BEhk1fqZo?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=fr_FR"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/X2BEhk1fqZo?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=fr_FR" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cried for hours&lt;br /&gt;On your box of cookies&lt;br /&gt;The one with the letters&lt;br /&gt;The pictures of New Hampshire&lt;br /&gt;Your romantic trip&lt;br /&gt;With Adèle de Bayeux&lt;br /&gt;I think her name is ridiculous&lt;br /&gt;It sounds like a brand of jumper &lt;br /&gt;She would like to meet me&lt;br /&gt;Have us for lunch&lt;br /&gt;Sure she's going to love me&lt;br /&gt;She insisted so much&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes I'm jealous&lt;br /&gt;Yes, that's it, simply jealous&lt;br /&gt;I am jealous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm eating alone at the Chinese restaurant&lt;br /&gt;It's handy, it's just downstairs&lt;br /&gt;I've let you go alone to her&lt;br /&gt;And now I regret it&lt;br /&gt;You told me: that's a pity&lt;br /&gt;She is such a good cook&lt;br /&gt;I would like to cook for her&lt;br /&gt;A soup made of nitroglycerin&lt;br /&gt;Bile and glutamate&lt;br /&gt;Are fighting in my belly&lt;br /&gt;I say this every time&lt;br /&gt;I will not eat Chinese again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes I'm jealous&lt;br /&gt;Yes, that's it, simply jealous&lt;br /&gt;I am jealous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your Adèle wants to see you again&lt;br /&gt;She is free in the evening&lt;br /&gt;Talk to you from time to time&lt;br /&gt;Let's smile and bite it&lt;br /&gt;It's true it's quite normal&lt;br /&gt;There is nothing wrong about it&lt;br /&gt;I won't make a scene&lt;br /&gt;For you both it's important&lt;br /&gt;But this is the art of my jealousy&lt;br /&gt;Not knowing how to tell you&lt;br /&gt;Yes, it disturbs me a little&lt;br /&gt;That you want to see each other again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes I'm jealous&lt;br /&gt;Yes, that's it, simply jealous&lt;br /&gt;I am jealous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;J'ai pleuré pendant des heures&lt;br /&gt;Sur ta boite de petits beurres&lt;br /&gt;La fameuse avec les lettres&lt;br /&gt;Les photos de New Hampshire&lt;br /&gt;Ton voyage en amoureux &lt;br /&gt;Avec Adèle de Bayeux&lt;br /&gt;Je trouve son nom ridicule&lt;br /&gt;On dirait une marque de pull&lt;br /&gt;Elle voudrait me rencontrer&lt;br /&gt;Nous avoir pour déjeuner&lt;br /&gt;C'est sûr elle va m'adorer&lt;br /&gt;Elle a tellement insisté&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh oui je suis jalouse&lt;br /&gt;Oui c'est ça tout simplement jalouse&lt;br /&gt;Je suis jalouse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je mange toute seule au chinois&lt;br /&gt;C'est pratique c'est juste en bas&lt;br /&gt;Je t'ai laissé y aller tout seul &lt;br /&gt;Maintenant je m'en mords les doigts&lt;br /&gt;Tu m'as dit c'est trop dommage&lt;br /&gt;Elle fait si bien la cuisine&lt;br /&gt;Je lui ferais bien mon potage&lt;br /&gt;A la nitroglycérine&lt;br /&gt;La bile et le glutamax&lt;br /&gt;Se chamaillent dans ma rate &lt;br /&gt;Je me dis ça à chaque fois&lt;br /&gt;Je ne mangerais plus chinois&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh oui je suis jalouse&lt;br /&gt;Oui c'est ça tout simplement jalouse&lt;br /&gt;Je suis jalouse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ton Adèle veut te revoir&lt;br /&gt;Elle est libre plutôt le soir&lt;br /&gt;Te parler de temps en temps&lt;br /&gt;Sourions, serrons les dents&lt;br /&gt;C'est vrai c'est assez normal&lt;br /&gt;Je n'y vois pas d'inconvénient&lt;br /&gt;Je ne vais pas faire un scandale&lt;br /&gt;Pour vous deux c'est important&lt;br /&gt;mais c'est l'art de ma jalousie&lt;br /&gt;De ne pas savoir te dire&lt;br /&gt;Oui ça me fait un peu bizarre&lt;br /&gt;Que vous vouliez vous revoir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et oui je suis jalouse&lt;br /&gt;Oui c'est ca tout simplement jalouse&lt;br /&gt;Oh oui je suis jalouse&lt;br /&gt;Oui c'est ca tout simplement jalouse&lt;br /&gt;Je suis jalouse        &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-4063942392053282878?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/4063942392053282878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2010/09/emily-loizeau-i-am-jealous-je-suis.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/4063942392053282878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/4063942392053282878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2010/09/emily-loizeau-i-am-jealous-je-suis.html' title='Emily Loizeau - I am jealous&lt;br&gt;Je suis jalouse'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-7765953919902697767</id><published>2010-09-12T16:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T16:21:30.881+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Barbara'/><title type='text'>Barbara - Göttingen</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Aad4Bm_Y0So?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=fr_FR"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Aad4Bm_Y0So?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=fr_FR" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, it's not la Seine&lt;br /&gt;It's not Vincennes' wood,&lt;br /&gt;But it is pretty anyway&lt;br /&gt;In Göttingen, in Göttingen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No quays, and no old tunes&lt;br /&gt;moaning and dragging on&lt;br /&gt;But love still blossoms here&lt;br /&gt;In Göttingen, in Göttingen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They know better that us, I think,&lt;br /&gt;The history of the kings of France&lt;br /&gt;Herman, Peter, Helga and Hans,&lt;br /&gt;In Göttingen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get offended,&lt;br /&gt;But the tales of our childhood,&lt;br /&gt;"Once upon a time" start&lt;br /&gt;In Göttingen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, we have la Seine&lt;br /&gt;And our Vincennes' wood,&lt;br /&gt;But God, the roses are beautiful&lt;br /&gt;In Göttingen, in Göttingen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have our pale mornings,&lt;br /&gt;The grey soul of Verlaine,&lt;br /&gt;Them, they are melancholy itself&lt;br /&gt;In Göttingen, in Göttingen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they don't have anything to say,&lt;br /&gt;They stay here and smile to us&lt;br /&gt;But we understand them anyway&lt;br /&gt;The blond children of Göttingen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too bad for those who are stunned&lt;br /&gt;May the others forgive me,&lt;br /&gt;But children are the same,&lt;br /&gt;In Paris or in Göttingen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May never come back&lt;br /&gt;The time of blood and hatred&lt;br /&gt;Because there are people I love&lt;br /&gt;In Göttingen, in Göttingen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When would ring the alarm&lt;br /&gt;If we had to take up arms again&lt;br /&gt;My heart would shed a tear&lt;br /&gt;For Göttingen, for Göttingen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But still, it is pretty&lt;br /&gt;In Göttingen, in Göttingen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Bien sûr, ce n'est pas la Seine,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Ce n'est pas le bois de Vincennes,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Mais c'est bien joli tout de même,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;A Göttingen, à Göttingen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Pas de quais et pas de rengaines&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Qui se lamentent et qui se traînent,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Mais l'amour y fleurit quand même,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;A Göttingen, à Göttingen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Ils savent mieux que nous, je pense,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;L'histoire de nos rois de France,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Herman, Peter, Helga et Hans,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;A Göttingen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Et que personne ne s'offense,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Mais les contes de notre enfance,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;"Il était une fois" commence&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;A Göttingen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Bien sûr nous, nous avons la Seine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Et puis notre bois de Vincennes,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Mais Dieu que les roses sont belles&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;A Göttingen, à Göttingen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Nous, nous avons nos matins blêmes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Et l'âme grise de Verlaine,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Eux c'est la mélancolie même,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;A Göttingen, à Göttingen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Quand ils ne savent rien nous dire,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Ils restent là à nous sourire&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Mais nous les comprenons quand même,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Les enfants blonds de Göttingen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Et tant pis pour ceux qui s'étonnent&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Et que les autres me pardonnent,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Mais les enfants ce sont les mêmes,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;A Paris ou à Göttingen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;O faites que jamais ne revienne&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Le temps du sang et de la haine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Car il y a des gens que j'aime,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;A Göttingen, à Göttingen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Et lorsque sonnerait l'alarme,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;S'il fallait reprendre les armes,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Mon cœur verserait une larme&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Pour Göttingen, pour Göttingen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Mais c'est bien joli tout de même,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;A Göttingen, à Göttingen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Et lorsque sonnerait l'alarme,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;S'il fallait reprendre les armes,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Mon cœur verserait une larme&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Pour Göttingen, pour Göttingen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-7765953919902697767?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/7765953919902697767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2010/09/barbara-gottingen.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/7765953919902697767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/7765953919902697767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2010/09/barbara-gottingen.html' title='Barbara - Göttingen'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-5608957653963929803</id><published>2010-09-04T18:52:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-04T18:54:00.880+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Camelia Jordana'/><title type='text'>Camelia Jordana - No, no, no (Listen to Barbara)Non, non, non (Ecouter Barbara)</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VjtyA1ibW74?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=fr_FR"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VjtyA1ibW74?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=fr_FR" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many times&lt;br /&gt;should I say, with style, &lt;br /&gt;I don't want to go to the &lt;i&gt;Baron&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, no, no&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to go out&lt;br /&gt;No, no, no&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to have a drink&lt;br /&gt;No, no, no&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to forget him&lt;br /&gt;No, no, no,&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to do without him&lt;br /&gt;I just want&lt;br /&gt;To feel bad, and there is nothing wrong about it&lt;br /&gt;To linger, to eat nothing,&lt;br /&gt;Listen to Barbara&lt;br /&gt;Maybe he will come back&lt;br /&gt;No, I don't want to go for a walk&lt;br /&gt;What's the use of going for a walk&lt;br /&gt;No, I don't want to get rid&lt;br /&gt;Of this so pretty hell&lt;br /&gt;That I started to like&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, no, no&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to go out&lt;br /&gt;No, no, no&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to have a drink&lt;br /&gt;No, no, no&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to forget him&lt;br /&gt;No, no, no,&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to do without him&lt;br /&gt;I just want&lt;br /&gt;To feel bad, and there is nothing wrong about it&lt;br /&gt;To linger, to eat nothing,&lt;br /&gt;Listen to Barbara&lt;br /&gt;Maybe he will come back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I don't want to get better&lt;br /&gt;What's the use of getting better&lt;br /&gt;No, I don't want to get dressed&lt;br /&gt;Neither to put make up on&lt;br /&gt;Let me be bored&lt;br /&gt;Enough of your questions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, no, no&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to go out&lt;br /&gt;No, no, no&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to have a drink&lt;br /&gt;No, no, no&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to forget him&lt;br /&gt;No, no, no,&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to do without him&lt;br /&gt;I just want&lt;br /&gt;To feel bad, and there is nothing wrong about it&lt;br /&gt;To linger, to eat nothing,&lt;br /&gt;Listen to Barbara&lt;br /&gt;Maybe he will come back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Combien de fois faut-il&lt;br /&gt;Vous le dire avec style&lt;br /&gt;Je ne veux pas sortir au Baron&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Non, non, non, non&lt;br /&gt;Je ne veux pas prendre l'air&lt;br /&gt;Non, non, non, non&lt;br /&gt;Je ne veux pas boire un verre&lt;br /&gt;Non, non, non, non&lt;br /&gt;Je ne veux pas l'oublier&lt;br /&gt;Non, non, non, non&lt;br /&gt;Je ne veux pas m'en passer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Je veux juste&lt;br /&gt;Aller mal et y'a pas de mal à ça&lt;br /&gt;Trainer, manger que dalle&lt;br /&gt;Écouter Barbara&lt;br /&gt;Peut-être il reviendra&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Non, je ne veux pas faire un tour&lt;br /&gt;A quoi ça sert de faire un tour&lt;br /&gt;Non, je ne veux pas me défaire&lt;br /&gt;De ce si bel enfer&lt;br /&gt;Qui commence à me plaire&lt;br /&gt;Je ne veux pas quitter mon salon&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Non, non, non, non&lt;br /&gt;Je ne veux pas prendre l'air&lt;br /&gt;Non, non, non, non&lt;br /&gt;Je ne veux pas boire un verre&lt;br /&gt;Non, non, non, non&lt;br /&gt;Je ne veux pas l'oublier&lt;br /&gt;Non, non, non, non&lt;br /&gt;Je ne veux pas m'en passer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Je veux juste&lt;br /&gt;Aller mal et y'a pas de mal à ça&lt;br /&gt;Trainer, manger que dalle&lt;br /&gt;Écouter Barbara&lt;br /&gt;Peut-être il reviendra&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Non, je ne veux pas aller mieux&lt;br /&gt;A quoi ça sert d'aller mieux&lt;br /&gt;Non, je ne veux pas m'habiller&lt;br /&gt;Non plus me maquiller&lt;br /&gt;Laissez-moi m'ennuyer&lt;br /&gt;Arrêtez avec vos questions&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Non, non, non, non&lt;br /&gt;Je ne veux pas prendre l'air&lt;br /&gt;Non, non, non, non&lt;br /&gt;Je ne veux pas boire un verre&lt;br /&gt;Non, non, non, non&lt;br /&gt;Je ne veux pas l'oublier&lt;br /&gt;Non, non, non, non&lt;br /&gt;Je ne veux pas m'en passer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Je veux juste&lt;br /&gt;Aller mal et y'a pas de mal à ça&lt;br /&gt;Trainer, manger que dalle&lt;br /&gt;Écouter Barbara&lt;br /&gt;Peut-être il reviendra&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-5608957653963929803?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/5608957653963929803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2010/09/camelia-jordana-no-no-no-listen-to.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/5608957653963929803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/5608957653963929803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2010/09/camelia-jordana-no-no-no-listen-to.html' title='Camelia Jordana - No, no, no (Listen to Barbara)&lt;br&gt;Non, non, non (Ecouter Barbara)'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-6398678878137039065</id><published>2010-08-20T15:20:00.008+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-20T16:14:29.188+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Zaz'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Zaz - I want Je veux</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/AbF4G_cQ8uc?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=fr_FR"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/AbF4G_cQ8uc?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=fr_FR" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give me a suite at the Ritz hotel, I don't want that&lt;br /&gt;Chanel's jewellery, I don't want that&lt;br /&gt;Give me a limo, what would I do with it?&lt;br /&gt;Offer me staff, what would I do with it?&lt;br /&gt;A mansion in Neufchatel, it's not for me&lt;br /&gt;Offer me the Eiffel tower, what would I do with it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want love, joy, good spirit&lt;br /&gt;It's not your money that will make me happy&lt;br /&gt;I want to die with a hand on my heart&lt;br /&gt;Let's go together, let's discover my freedom,&lt;br /&gt;Forget all your prejudice, welcome to my reality&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm fed up with your good manners, it's too much for me&lt;br /&gt;I eat with my hands, I'm like that&lt;br /&gt;I speak loud and I'm direct, sorry&lt;br /&gt;Let's end the hypocrisy, I'm out of it&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of double-talks&lt;br /&gt;Look at me, I'm not even mad at you, I'm just like that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want love, joy, good spirit&lt;br /&gt;It's not your money that will make me happy&lt;br /&gt;I want to die with a hand on my heart&lt;br /&gt;Let's go together, let's discover my freedom,&lt;br /&gt;Forget all your prejudice, welcome to my reality&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Donnez-moi une suite au Ritz, je n'en veux pas&lt;br /&gt;Des bijoux de chez Chanel, je n'en veux pas&lt;br /&gt;Donnez-moi une limousine, j'en ferais quoi ?&lt;br /&gt;Offrez-moi du personnel, j'en ferais quoi ?&lt;br /&gt;Un manoir a Neufchatel, ce n'est pas pour moi&lt;br /&gt;Offrez-moi la Tour Eiffel, j'en ferais quoi ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je veux de l'amour, de la joie, de la bonne humeur&lt;br /&gt;Ce n'est pas votre  argent qui fera mon bonheur&lt;br /&gt;Moi je veux crever la main sur le cœur&lt;br /&gt;Allons ensemble, découvrir ma liberté&lt;br /&gt;Oubliez donc tous  vos clichés&lt;br /&gt;Bienvenue dans ma réalité&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'en ai marre de vos bonnes manières, c'est trop pour moi&lt;br /&gt;Moi je mange avec les mains et je suis comme ça&lt;br /&gt;Je parle fort et je suis franche, excusez moi&lt;br /&gt;Finie l'hypocrisie, moi je me casse de là&lt;br /&gt;J'en ai marre des langues de bois&lt;br /&gt;Regardez-moi, de toute manière je vous en veux pas et je suis comme ça&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je veux de l'amour, de la joie, de la bonne humeur&lt;br /&gt;Ce n'est pas votre  argent qui fera mon bonheur&lt;br /&gt;Moi je veux crever la main sur le cœur&lt;br /&gt;Allons ensemble, découvrir ma liberté&lt;br /&gt;Oubliez donc tous  vos clichés&lt;br /&gt;Bienvenue dans ma réalité  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-6398678878137039065?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/6398678878137039065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2010/08/zaz-i-want-je-veux.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/6398678878137039065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/6398678878137039065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2010/08/zaz-i-want-je-veux.html' title='Zaz - I want&lt;br&gt; Je veux'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-9109463656585539634</id><published>2010-08-20T09:26:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-20T10:40:22.413+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mecano'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spanish'/><title type='text'>Mecano - A woman with a womanUne femme avec une femme</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/93weGVVXBFY?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=fr_FR"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/93weGVVXBFY?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=fr_FR" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two women holding hands&lt;br /&gt;Cannot bother the morality&lt;br /&gt;The doubt settles down&lt;br /&gt;When this gesture happens under the table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they are alone, having nothing to loose&lt;br /&gt;After the hands, it's their whole body&lt;br /&gt;A secret love&lt;br /&gt;Even naked, they wouldn't be able to hide it&lt;br /&gt;So when people are around,&lt;br /&gt;In the street, they disguise it as friendship&lt;br /&gt;One says it is wrong&lt;br /&gt;The other says that it is better to let them talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What people think or say wouldn't change anything&lt;br /&gt;Who can stop doves flying&lt;br /&gt;Both skimming the ground&lt;br /&gt;A woman with a woman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to judge them&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to throw the first stone&lt;br /&gt;And if, openning the door,&lt;br /&gt;I found them lip to lip in the living room&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't dare to cough&lt;br /&gt;If it bothers me, I can simply leave&lt;br /&gt;With my stones they would built their fortress&lt;br /&gt;Who can stop doves flying&lt;br /&gt;Both skimming the ground&lt;br /&gt;A woman with a woman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One says it is wrong&lt;br /&gt;The other says that it is better to let them talk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What people think or say wouldn't change anything&lt;br /&gt;Who can stop doves flying&lt;br /&gt;Both skimming the ground&lt;br /&gt;A woman with a woman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Deux femmes qui se tiennent la main&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt; Ça n'a rien qui peut gêner la morale&lt;br /&gt;Là où le doute s'installe&lt;br /&gt;C'est que ce geste se fasse sous la table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quand elles sont seules, comme elles n'ont rien à perdre&lt;br /&gt;Après les mains, la peau de tout le reste&lt;br /&gt;Un amour qui est secret&lt;br /&gt;Même nues, elles ne pourraient le cacher&lt;br /&gt;Alors, sous les yeux des autres&lt;br /&gt;Dans la rue, elles le déguisent en amitié&lt;br /&gt;L'une des deux dit que c'est mal agir&lt;br /&gt;Et l'autre dit qu'il vaut mieux laisser dire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ce qu'ils en pensent ou disent ne pourrait rien y faire&lt;br /&gt;Qui arrête les colombes en plein vol&lt;br /&gt;A deux au ras du sol&lt;br /&gt;Une femme avec une femme&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je ne veux pas les juger&lt;br /&gt;Je ne veux pas jeter la première pierre&lt;br /&gt;Et si, en poussant la porte&lt;br /&gt;Je les trouve bouche-à-bouche dans le salon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je n'aurais pas l'audace de tousser&lt;br /&gt;Si ça me dérange, je n'ai qu'à m'en aller&lt;br /&gt;Avec mes pierres elles construiraient leur forteresse&lt;br /&gt;Qui arrête les colombes en plein vol&lt;br /&gt;A deux, au ras du sol&lt;br /&gt;Une femme avec une femme&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L'une des deux dit que c'est mal agir&lt;br /&gt;Et l'autre dit qu'il vaut mieux laisser dire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ce qu'ils en pensent ou disent ne pourrait rien y faire&lt;br /&gt;Qui arrête les colombes en plein vol&lt;br /&gt;A deux, au ras du sol&lt;br /&gt;Une femme avec une femme&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Qui arrête les colombes en plein vol&lt;br /&gt;A deux, au ras du sol&lt;br /&gt;Une femme avec une femme&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-9109463656585539634?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/9109463656585539634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2010/08/mecano-woman-with-woman-une-femme-avec.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/9109463656585539634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/9109463656585539634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2010/08/mecano-woman-with-woman-une-femme-avec.html' title='Mecano - A woman with a woman&lt;br&gt;Une femme avec une femme'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-6581268056644333072</id><published>2010-08-19T22:09:00.008+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-20T09:10:53.254+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Renan Luce'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Renan Luce - The girls next doorLes voisines</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Z-L4jPVoNAE?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=fr_FR"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Z-L4jPVoNAE?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=fr_FR" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always prefered the girls next door to the guys&lt;br /&gt;The girls' puppet shadows undulate behind the window blinds&lt;br /&gt;For myself I invented a pantomime love&lt;br /&gt;Where your stockings slide down your legs in gold and black colours&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From my window "en face"&lt;br /&gt;I caress the glass&lt;br /&gt;And curse the technicians&lt;br /&gt;Whose Venitian blinds&lt;br /&gt;Cut in slices&lt;br /&gt;Every undressing bird&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always prefered the girls next door to the guys&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always prefered the girls next door&lt;br /&gt;Who dry  in the wind their laces on the balconies&lt;br /&gt;It is a bit you who dance when dances the fabric&lt;br /&gt;Invited to the ball of your coton underwear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From my window "en face"&lt;br /&gt;I caress the glass&lt;br /&gt;I curse the brains,&lt;br /&gt;Creators of the tumble-drier.&lt;br /&gt;No more window-shopping&lt;br /&gt;With this lingerie&lt;br /&gt;That you were drying;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always prefered the girls next door to the guys&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always prefered the girls next door&lt;br /&gt;Who empty their wardrobe in quest of decision&lt;br /&gt;In about one hour, you will choose the jeans&lt;br /&gt;Of course, you will put them on in my line of vision&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From my window "en face"&lt;br /&gt;I caress the glass&lt;br /&gt;Unfair competition&lt;br /&gt;Of your central heating&lt;br /&gt;A dense condensation&lt;br /&gt;is stopping my trance&lt;br /&gt;Then thick curtains &lt;br /&gt;This is the straw&lt;br /&gt;A renovation of the façade&lt;br /&gt;Hides your view;&lt;br /&gt;A nursing home&lt;br /&gt;Is built just in front of my window;&lt;br /&gt;Hundreds of huge panty girdles&lt;br /&gt;Are now drying on strings&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always prefered the girls next door to the guys...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;J'ai toujours préféré aux voisins les voisines&lt;br /&gt;Dont les ombres chinoises ondulent sur les volets&lt;br /&gt;Je me suis inventé un amour pantomime&lt;br /&gt;Où glissent en or et noir tes bas sur tes mollets&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De ma fenêtre en face&lt;br /&gt;Je caresse le plexiglas&lt;br /&gt;Je maudis les techniciens&lt;br /&gt;Dont les stores vénitiens&lt;br /&gt;Découpent en tranches&lt;br /&gt;La moindre pervenche&lt;br /&gt;Déshabillée&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai toujours préféré aux voisins les voisines&lt;br /&gt;J'ai toujours préféré aux voisins les voisines&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai toujours préféré aux voisins les voisines&lt;br /&gt;Qui sèchent leurs dentelles au vent sur les balcons&lt;br /&gt;C'est un peu toi qui danse quand danse la mousseline&lt;br /&gt;Invité au grand bal de tes slips en coton&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De ma fenêtre en face&lt;br /&gt;Je caresse le plexiglas&lt;br /&gt;Je maudis les méninges&lt;br /&gt;Inventeurs du sèche-linge&lt;br /&gt;Plus de lèche-vitrine&lt;br /&gt;A ces cache-poitrines&lt;br /&gt;Que tu séchais&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai toujours préféré aux voisins les voisines&lt;br /&gt;J'ai toujours préféré aux voisins les voisines&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai toujours préféré aux voisins les voisines&lt;br /&gt;Qui vident leurs armoires en quête d'une décision&lt;br /&gt;Dans une heure environ, tu choisiras le jean&lt;br /&gt;Tu l'enfileras bien sûr dans mon champ de vision&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De ma fenêtre en face&lt;br /&gt;Je caresse le plexiglas&lt;br /&gt;Concurrence déloyale&lt;br /&gt;De ton chauffage central&lt;br /&gt;Une buée dense&lt;br /&gt;Interrompt ma transe&lt;br /&gt;Puis des épais rideaux&lt;br /&gt;Et c'est la goutte d'eau&lt;br /&gt;Un ravalement de façade&lt;br /&gt;Me cache ta palissade&lt;br /&gt;Une maison de retraite&lt;br /&gt;Construite devant ma fenêtre&lt;br /&gt;Sur un fil par centaines&lt;br /&gt;Sèchent d'immenses gaines&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai toujours préféré aux voisins les voisines&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-6581268056644333072?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/6581268056644333072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2010/08/renan-luce-female-neighbours-les.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/6581268056644333072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/6581268056644333072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2010/08/renan-luce-female-neighbours-les.html' title='Renan Luce - The girls next door&lt;br&gt;Les voisines'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-6124729491630993057</id><published>2010-08-19T18:41:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-19T19:21:16.363+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Georges Moustaki'/><title type='text'>Georges Moustaki - My solitudeMa Solitude</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/r5LhGYGi61c?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=fr_FR"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/r5LhGYGi61c?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=fr_FR" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I slept so many times with my solitude,&lt;br /&gt;It almost became a friend, a gentle habit.&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't leave me, its as faithful as a shadow.&lt;br /&gt;It followed me here and there, in every corner of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I never feel alone with my solitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it's in my bed, it takes all the space,&lt;br /&gt;And we spend together long nights face to face.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how far it will go&lt;br /&gt;Should I get used to it or should I react?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I never feel alone with my solitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through it, I learned as much, as many tears I've shed.&lt;br /&gt;When sometimes I reject it, it never looses its strenght.&lt;br /&gt;And when I prefer the love of another courtesan,&lt;br /&gt;It will be, for my last day, my last partner&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I never feel alone with my solitude. &lt;!--Lyrics End--&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pour avoir si souvent dormi avec ma solitude,&lt;br /&gt;Je m'en suis fait presque une amie, une douce habitude.&lt;br /&gt;Elle ne me quitte pas d'un pas, fidèle comme une ombre.&lt;br /&gt;Elle m'a suivi ça et là, aux quatre coins du monde.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Non, je ne suis jamais seul avec ma solitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quand elle est au creux de mon lit, elle prend toute la place,&lt;br /&gt;Et nous passons de longues nuits, tous les deux face à face.&lt;br /&gt;Je ne sais vraiment pas jusqu'où ira cette complice,&lt;br /&gt;Faudra-t-il que j'y prenne goût ou que je réagisse?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Non, je ne suis jamais seul avec ma solitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Par elle, j'ai autant appris que j'ai versé de larmes.&lt;br /&gt;Si parfois je la répudie, jamais elle ne désarme.&lt;br /&gt;Et, si je préfère l'amour d'une autre courtisane,&lt;br /&gt;Elle sera à mon dernier jour, ma dernière compagne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Non, je ne suis jamais seul avec ma solitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-6124729491630993057?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/6124729491630993057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2010/08/georges-moustaki-my-solitude-ma.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/6124729491630993057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/6124729491630993057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2010/08/georges-moustaki-my-solitude-ma.html' title='Georges Moustaki - My solitude&lt;br&gt;Ma Solitude'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-2616564669197199983</id><published>2010-08-02T10:34:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-02T11:15:33.200+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Georges Moustaki'/><title type='text'>It is too late Il est trop tard - Georges Moustaki</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="360"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/video/x8t3yu?additionalInfos=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/video/x8t3yu?additionalInfos=0" width="480" height="360" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x8t3yu_georges-moustaki-il-est-trop-tard_music"&gt;Georges Moustaki Il est trop tard&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was asleep, while I was dreaming&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hands of the clock have turned. It is too late.&lt;br /&gt;My childhood is so far away. It is already tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;Time is passing, passing, there is not much of it left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was loving you, while I still had you, &lt;br /&gt;Love went away, it is too late.&lt;br /&gt;While I was asleep, while I was dreaming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were so pretty, I am alone in my bed.&lt;br /&gt;Time is passing, passing, there is not much of it left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was singing about my dear freedom&lt;br /&gt;Others chained it. It is too late.&lt;br /&gt;Some fought, me I never knew how.&lt;br /&gt;Time is passing, passing, there is not much of it left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still I am living, still I am making love&lt;br /&gt;I even sing with my guitar sometimes&lt;br /&gt;For the child I was, for the child I have&lt;br /&gt;Time is passing, passing, there is not much time left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was singing&lt;br /&gt;While I was loving you&lt;br /&gt;While I was dreaming&lt;br /&gt;There was still time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Pendant que je dormais, pendant que je rêvais,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les aiguilles ont tourné, Il est trop tard.&lt;br /&gt;Mon enfance est si loin, il est déjà demain.&lt;br /&gt;Passe, passe le temps, il n'y en a plus pour très longtemps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pendant que je t'aimais, pendant que je t'avais,&lt;br /&gt;L'amour s'en est allé, il est trop tard.&lt;br /&gt;Tu étais si jolie, je suis seul dans mon lit.&lt;br /&gt;Passe, passe le temps, il n'y en a plus pour très longtemps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pendant que je chantais ma chère liberté,&lt;br /&gt;D'autres l'ont enchaîné, il est trop tard.&lt;br /&gt;Certains se sont battus, moi, je n'ai jamais su.&lt;br /&gt;Passe, passe le temps, il n'y en a plus pour très longtemps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pourtant, je vis toujours, pourtant, je fais l'amour,&lt;br /&gt;Il m'arrive même de chanter sur ma guitare,&lt;br /&gt;Pour l'enfant que j'étais, pour l'enfant que j'ai fait.&lt;br /&gt;Passe, passe le temps, il n'y en a plus pour très longtemps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pendant que je chantais,&lt;br /&gt;Pendant que je t'aimais,&lt;br /&gt;Pendant que je rêvais,&lt;br /&gt;Il était encore temps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-2616564669197199983?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/2616564669197199983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2010/08/it-is-too-late-il-est-trop-tard-georges.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2616564669197199983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2616564669197199983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2010/08/it-is-too-late-il-est-trop-tard-georges.html' title='It is too late &lt;br&gt;Il est trop tard - Georges Moustaki'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-5882400310645551919</id><published>2010-05-01T11:05:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-01T17:08:16.694+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Québécois'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ariane Moffatt'/><title type='text'>Ariane Moffatt - Je veux toutI want everything</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/iG3cW2CI9PA&amp;hl=en_GB&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/iG3cW2CI9PA&amp;hl=en_GB&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want everything&lt;br /&gt;You and the others too&lt;br /&gt;In all my life&lt;br /&gt;There are no price tags on hearts&lt;br /&gt;I want everything&lt;br /&gt;Right now right here&lt;br /&gt;I want everything&lt;br /&gt;The clear image and the blurry one&lt;br /&gt;Of unlimited feelings&lt;br /&gt;I work for love without appointments&lt;br /&gt;I want to steal without getting caught&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to fill up the emptiness&lt;br /&gt;with good and bad memories&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to fill up the emptiness&lt;br /&gt;Before my soul dries out, before I crack up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want everything&lt;br /&gt;Silence and promisses&lt;br /&gt;The tough and the smooth&lt;br /&gt;I want everything&lt;br /&gt;Anarchy and wisdom&lt;br /&gt;Your smile and your butt&lt;br /&gt;I want everything&lt;br /&gt;You and your friends&lt;br /&gt;To draw my days and my nights&lt;br /&gt;There are no price tags on hearts&lt;br /&gt;I want everything&lt;br /&gt;Right now right here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to fill up the emptiness&lt;br /&gt;With good and bad memories&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to fill up the emptiness&lt;br /&gt;Before my soul dries out, before I crack up&lt;br /&gt;I want everything&lt;br /&gt;You and the others too&lt;br /&gt;In all my life&lt;br /&gt;There are no price tags on hearts&lt;br /&gt;I want everything&lt;br /&gt;Right now right here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Je veux tout&lt;br /&gt;Toi et les autres aussi&lt;br /&gt;Aux 4 coins de ma vie&lt;br /&gt;Sur les coeurs il n’y a pas de prix&lt;br /&gt;Je veux tout&lt;br /&gt;Tout de suite et ici&lt;br /&gt;Je veux tout&lt;br /&gt;L’image claire et la floue&lt;br /&gt;Sur les sentiments illimités&lt;br /&gt;Je travaille pour l’amour sans rendez-vous&lt;br /&gt;Je veux voler sans me faire attraper&lt;br /&gt;Le vide je vais le remplir&lt;br /&gt;De bon ou de mauvais souvenirs&lt;br /&gt;Le vide je veux le remplir&lt;br /&gt;Avant que mon âme s’assèche et que je craque &lt;p&gt;Je veux tout&lt;br /&gt;Le silence et les promesses&lt;br /&gt;Le rigide et la souplesse&lt;br /&gt;Je veux tout&lt;br /&gt;L’anarchie et la sagesse&lt;br /&gt;Ton sourire et puis tes fesses&lt;br /&gt;Je veux tout&lt;br /&gt;Toi et tout tes amis&lt;br /&gt;Pour tracer mes jours et mes nuits&lt;br /&gt;Sur les coeurs il n’y a pas de prix&lt;br /&gt;Je veux tout&lt;br /&gt;Tout de suite et ici&lt;br /&gt;Je veux tout&lt;br /&gt;Tout de suite et ici&lt;/p&gt; Le vide je vais le remplir&lt;br /&gt;De bon ou de mauvais souvenirs&lt;br /&gt;Le vide je veux le remplir&lt;br /&gt;Avant que mon âme s’assèche et que je craque&lt;br /&gt;Je veux tout&lt;br /&gt;Toi et les autres aussi&lt;br /&gt;Aux quatre coins de ma vie&lt;br /&gt;Sur les coeurs il n’y a pas de prix&lt;br /&gt;Je veux tout&lt;br /&gt;Tout de suite et ici&lt;br /&gt;Je veux tout&lt;br /&gt;Tout de suite et ici&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-5882400310645551919?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/5882400310645551919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2010/05/ariane-moffatt-je-veux-tout-i-want.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/5882400310645551919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/5882400310645551919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2010/05/ariane-moffatt-je-veux-tout-i-want.html' title='Ariane Moffatt - Je veux tout&lt;br&gt;I want everything'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-2452790516800757597</id><published>2009-08-24T10:57:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T15:33:15.916+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jacques Brel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Belgian'/><title type='text'>Brel - Those peopleCes gens-là</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/hZh2ggOfglU&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/hZh2ggOfglU&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, there is the oldest son&lt;br /&gt;Who is shaped like a melon&lt;br /&gt;Who has a big nose&lt;br /&gt;Who doesn't know his name anymore Sir,&lt;br /&gt;Because he drinks so much&lt;br /&gt;Or because he has been drinking so much&lt;br /&gt;And who doesn't do anything&lt;br /&gt;But who is exhausted&lt;br /&gt;Who is completely wasted&lt;br /&gt;And who thinks he is the king&lt;br /&gt;Who gets drunk every night&lt;br /&gt;With bad wine&lt;br /&gt;Then he's found in the morning&lt;br /&gt;Sleeping in the church&lt;br /&gt;Stiff as a hard-on&lt;br /&gt;White as an Easter candle&lt;br /&gt;Stammering,&lt;br /&gt;With a wandering eye&lt;br /&gt;One must admit, Sir,&lt;br /&gt;Among those people,&lt;br /&gt;One doesn't think, Sir&lt;br /&gt;One doesn't think&lt;br /&gt;One prays&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, there is the other one&lt;br /&gt;With carrots in his hair&lt;br /&gt;Who never saw a comb&lt;br /&gt;Nasty as a moth&lt;br /&gt;Who would give his shirt&lt;br /&gt;To lucky poor people&lt;br /&gt;Who married Denise&lt;br /&gt;A girl from the city&lt;br /&gt;Well, another city&lt;br /&gt;And that is not it&lt;br /&gt;He does his little business&lt;br /&gt;With his little hat&lt;br /&gt;With his little coat&lt;br /&gt;With his little car&lt;br /&gt;He would like to show off&lt;br /&gt;But he doesn't show anything&lt;br /&gt;One should not play the rich&lt;br /&gt;When one doesn't have a penny&lt;br /&gt;One must admit, Sir&lt;br /&gt;Among those people,&lt;br /&gt;One doesn't live, Sir&lt;br /&gt;One doesn't live,&lt;br /&gt;One cheats&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, there are the others&lt;br /&gt;The mother, who doesn't say a word&lt;br /&gt;Or says random things&lt;br /&gt;And from the night until the morning&lt;br /&gt;With his pretty apostle face&lt;br /&gt;In his wooden frame&lt;br /&gt;There is the mustache of the father&lt;br /&gt;Who fell and died&lt;br /&gt;Who is watching his flock&lt;br /&gt;Eating the cold soup&lt;br /&gt;Making big noises "flchss"&lt;br /&gt;Making big noises "flchss"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there is the old woman&lt;br /&gt;Who cannot stop shaking&lt;br /&gt;And they wait for her to die&lt;br /&gt;Since she is the one with the money&lt;br /&gt;And nobody is listening to&lt;br /&gt;The stories her poor hands are telling&lt;br /&gt;One must admit, Sir&lt;br /&gt;Among those people,&lt;br /&gt;One doesn't talk, Sir&lt;br /&gt;One doesn't talk&lt;br /&gt;One counts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then,&lt;br /&gt;Then there is Frida&lt;br /&gt;Who is as beautiful as the sun&lt;br /&gt;And who loves me the same&lt;br /&gt;As I love Frida&lt;br /&gt;We often say to each other&lt;br /&gt;That we will have a house&lt;br /&gt;With many windows&lt;br /&gt;With almost no walls&lt;br /&gt;And we will live in there&lt;br /&gt;Where it will be good to be&lt;br /&gt;And even if there is nothing certain&lt;br /&gt;It is nevertheless a 'Maybe"&lt;br /&gt;Because the others don't want it&lt;br /&gt;Because the others don't want it&lt;br /&gt;The others, they say&lt;br /&gt;That she is too beautiful for me&lt;br /&gt;That I am only good&lt;br /&gt;At killing cats&lt;br /&gt;I never killed cats&lt;br /&gt;Or it was a long time ago&lt;br /&gt;Or I forgot&lt;br /&gt;Or they were stinky&lt;br /&gt;Well, they don't want it&lt;br /&gt;Well, they don't want it&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, when we see each other&lt;br /&gt;Pretending that is by chance&lt;br /&gt;With her eyes wet&lt;br /&gt;She says that she will leave&lt;br /&gt;She says that she will follow me&lt;br /&gt;And then for an instant only , Sir&lt;br /&gt;For an instant only ,&lt;br /&gt;I believe her&lt;br /&gt;For an instant only, Sir&lt;br /&gt;Because among those people, Sir&lt;br /&gt;One doesn't leave&lt;br /&gt;One doesn't leave, Sir&lt;br /&gt;Nobody leaves&lt;br /&gt;But it is getting late Sir,&lt;br /&gt;I have to go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ces gens-là&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;D'abord, d'abord, y a l'aîné&lt;br /&gt;Lui qui est comme un melon&lt;br /&gt;Lui qui a un gros nez&lt;br /&gt;Lui qui sait plus son nom&lt;br /&gt;Monsieur tellement qu'y boit&lt;br /&gt;Ou tellement qu'il a bu&lt;br /&gt;Qui fait rien de ses dix doigts&lt;br /&gt;Mais lui qui n'en peut plus&lt;br /&gt;Lui qui est complètement cuit&lt;br /&gt;Et qui s'prend pour le roi&lt;br /&gt;Qui se saoule toutes les nuits&lt;br /&gt;Avec du mauvais vin&lt;br /&gt;Mais qu'on retrouve matin&lt;br /&gt;Dans l'église qui roupille&lt;br /&gt;Raide comme une saillie&lt;br /&gt;Blanc comme un cierge de Pâques&lt;br /&gt;Et puis qui balbutie&lt;br /&gt;Qui a l'oeil qui divague&lt;br /&gt;Faut vous dire, Monsieur&lt;br /&gt;Que chez ces gens-là&lt;br /&gt;On ne pense pas, Monsieur&lt;br /&gt;On ne pense pas&lt;br /&gt;On prie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et puis, y a l'autre&lt;br /&gt;Des carottes dans les cheveux&lt;br /&gt;Qu'a jamais vu un peigne&lt;br /&gt;Qu'est méchant comme une teigne&lt;br /&gt;Même qu'il donnerait sa chemise&lt;br /&gt;A des pauvres gens heureux&lt;br /&gt;Qui a marié la Denise&lt;br /&gt;Une fille de la ville&lt;br /&gt;Enfin d'une autre ville&lt;br /&gt;Et que c'est pas fini&lt;br /&gt;Qui fait ses p'tites affaires&lt;br /&gt;Avec son p'tit chapeau&lt;br /&gt;Avec son p'tit manteau&lt;br /&gt;Avec sa p'tite auto&lt;br /&gt;Qu'aimerait bien avoir l'air&lt;br /&gt;Mais qui a pas l'air du tout&lt;br /&gt;Faut pas jouer les riches&lt;br /&gt;Quand on n'a pas le sou&lt;br /&gt;Faut vous dire, Monsieur&lt;br /&gt;Que chez ces gens-là&lt;br /&gt;On ne vit pas, Monsieur&lt;br /&gt;On ne vit pas&lt;br /&gt;On triche&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et puis, il y a les autres&lt;br /&gt;La mère qui ne dit rien&lt;br /&gt;Ou bien n'importe quoi&lt;br /&gt;Et du soir au matin&lt;br /&gt;Sous sa belle gueule d'apôtre&lt;br /&gt;Et dans son cadre en bois&lt;br /&gt;Y a la moustache du père&lt;br /&gt;Qui est mort d'une glissade&lt;br /&gt;Et qui r'garde son troupeau&lt;br /&gt;Bouffer la soupe froide&lt;br /&gt;Et ça fait des grands flchss&lt;br /&gt;Et ça fait des grands flchss&lt;br /&gt;Et puis y a la toute vieille&lt;br /&gt;Qu'en finit pas d'vibrer&lt;br /&gt;Et qu'on attend qu'elle crève&lt;br /&gt;Vu qu'c'est elle qu'a l'oseille&lt;br /&gt;Et qu'on n'écoute même pas&lt;br /&gt;C'que ses pauvres mains racontent&lt;br /&gt;Faut vous dire, Monsieur&lt;br /&gt;Que chez ces gens-là&lt;br /&gt;On ne cause pas, Monsieur&lt;br /&gt;On ne cause pas&lt;br /&gt;On compte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et puis et puis&lt;br /&gt;Et puis y a Frida&lt;br /&gt;Qui est belle comme un soleil&lt;br /&gt;Et qui m'aime pareil&lt;br /&gt;Que moi j'aime Frida&lt;br /&gt;Même qu'on se dit souvent&lt;br /&gt;Qu'on aura une maison&lt;br /&gt;Avec des tas de fenêtres&lt;br /&gt;Avec presque pas de murs&lt;br /&gt;Et qu'on vivra dedans&lt;br /&gt;Et qu'il fera bon y être&lt;br /&gt;Et que si c'est pas sûr&lt;br /&gt;C'est quand même peut-être&lt;br /&gt;Parce que les autres veulent pas&lt;br /&gt;Parce que les autres veulent pas&lt;br /&gt;Les autres ils disent comme ça&lt;br /&gt;Qu'elle est trop belle pour moi&lt;br /&gt;Que je suis tout juste bon&lt;br /&gt;A égorger les chats&lt;br /&gt;J'ai jamais tué de chats&lt;br /&gt;Ou alors y a longtemps&lt;br /&gt;Ou bien j'ai oublié&lt;br /&gt;Ou ils sentaient pas bon&lt;br /&gt;Enfin ils veulent pas&lt;br /&gt;Enfin ils veulent pas&lt;br /&gt;Parfois quand on se voit&lt;br /&gt;Semblant que c'est pas exprès&lt;br /&gt;Avec ses yeux mouillants&lt;br /&gt;Elle dit qu'elle partira&lt;br /&gt;Elle dit qu'elle me suivra&lt;br /&gt;Alors pour un instant&lt;br /&gt;Pour un instant seulement, Monsieur&lt;br /&gt;Alors, pour un instant, alors&lt;br /&gt;Moi je la crois&lt;br /&gt;Pour un instant seulement, Monsieur&lt;br /&gt;Parce que chez ces gens-là, Monsieur&lt;br /&gt;On s'en va pas&lt;br /&gt;On s'en va pas , Monsieur&lt;br /&gt;On ne s'en va pas&lt;br /&gt;Mais il est tard, Monsieur&lt;br /&gt;Il faut que je rentre chez moi.&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A cover by Noir Désir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QMpRuLD6xSY&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QMpRuLD6xSY&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-2452790516800757597?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/2452790516800757597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/08/bref-ces-gens-la.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2452790516800757597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2452790516800757597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/08/bref-ces-gens-la.html' title='Brel - Those people&lt;br&gt;Ces gens-là'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-9090577240822818699</id><published>2009-08-24T10:56:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-21T12:15:08.719+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Noir Désir'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Noir Désir - Marlène</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Zzc6K8QpUwI&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Zzc6K8QpUwI&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Marlene&lt;br /&gt;Hearts are bleeding&lt;br /&gt;And hanging at the top your stockings&lt;br /&gt;Oh Marlene&lt;br /&gt;In your veins&lt;br /&gt;Runs the love of the soldiers&lt;br /&gt;When they are dying or falling asleep&lt;br /&gt;It's the warmth of your voice&lt;br /&gt;Which soothes and drags them&lt;br /&gt;Outside the fights&lt;br /&gt;Oh Marlene,&lt;br /&gt;It's hatred&lt;br /&gt;Which brought us there&lt;br /&gt;But Marlene in your veins&lt;br /&gt;Was running the love of the soldiers&lt;br /&gt;When they are dying&lt;br /&gt;Or falling asleep&lt;br /&gt;It's in your arms&lt;br /&gt;They let themselves go&lt;br /&gt;And burn&lt;br /&gt;Like a fag between your fingers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Marlene&lt;br /&gt;Hearts are bleeding&lt;br /&gt;And hanging at the top your stockings&lt;br /&gt;Oh Marlene&lt;br /&gt;In your veins&lt;br /&gt;Runs the love of the soldiers&lt;br /&gt;When they are dying or falling asleep&lt;br /&gt;In the heat of your arms&lt;br /&gt;Which soothes and drags them&lt;br /&gt;Outside the fights&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hier und immer (Here and always),&lt;br /&gt;Da kennt man Sie (So they can all know),&lt;br /&gt;Kreuz unter Kreuzen (Cross under crosses)&lt;br /&gt;Marlene immer liebt (Marlène always loved)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Oh Marlène&lt;br /&gt;Les cœurs saignent&lt;br /&gt;Et s'accrochent en haut de tes bas&lt;br /&gt;Oh Marlène&lt;br /&gt;Dans tes veines&lt;br /&gt;Coule l'amour des soldats&lt;br /&gt;Et quand ils meurent ou s'endorment&lt;br /&gt;C'est la chaleur de ta voix&lt;br /&gt;Qui les apaise et les traîne&lt;br /&gt;Jusqu'en dehors des combats&lt;br /&gt;Oh Marlène,&lt;br /&gt;C'est la haine&lt;br /&gt;Qui nous a amené là&lt;br /&gt;Mais Marlène dans tes veines&lt;br /&gt;Coulait l'amour des soldats&lt;br /&gt;Eux quand ils meurent&lt;br /&gt;Ou s'endorment&lt;br /&gt;C'est dans le creux de tes bras&lt;br /&gt;Qu'ils s'abandonnent&lt;br /&gt;Et qu'ils brûlent&lt;br /&gt;Comme un clope entre tes doigts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Marlène&lt;br /&gt;Les cœurs saignent&lt;br /&gt;Et s'accrochent en haut de tes bas&lt;br /&gt;Mais Marlène&lt;br /&gt;Dans tes veines&lt;br /&gt;Coule l'amour des soldats&lt;br /&gt;Et quand ils meurent ou s'endorment&lt;br /&gt;Dans la chaleur de tes bras&lt;br /&gt;Qui les apaise, ça les traîne&lt;br /&gt;Jusqu'en dehors des combats&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hier und immer,&lt;br /&gt;Da kennt man sie,&lt;br /&gt;Kreuz unter Kreuzen&lt;br /&gt;Marlene immer liebt&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-9090577240822818699?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/9090577240822818699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/08/noir-desir-marlene.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/9090577240822818699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/9090577240822818699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/08/noir-desir-marlene.html' title='Noir Désir - Marlène'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-4569524904593890232</id><published>2009-08-19T12:08:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T09:51:25.443+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Coeur de Pirate'/><title type='text'>Coeur de Pirate - Like childrenComme des enfants</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="381"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/x8c6xd_coeur-de-pirate-comme-des-enfants_music&amp;related=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/x8c6xd_coeur-de-pirate-comme-des-enfants_music&amp;related=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="480" height="381" allowFullScreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x8c6xd_coeur-de-pirate-comme-des-enfants_music"&gt;Coeur de Pirate &amp;quot;Comme des enfants&amp;quot;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now you see, how everything is mingling&lt;br /&gt;From the heart to your lips, I am becoming a brain-teaser&lt;br /&gt;Your laugh tells me to let you go&lt;br /&gt;Before losing grip, and give up&lt;br /&gt;Because I will never ask you so much&lt;br /&gt;You who already treat me like a big child&lt;br /&gt;We have nothing to lose&lt;br /&gt;Beside our lives that we put aside&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But he still loves me, and I love you a little stronger&lt;br /&gt;But he still loves me, and I love you a little stronger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is enough of those split personalities&lt;br /&gt;It is more difficult to do, than any other way&lt;br /&gt;Really, it is easier to dream&lt;br /&gt;About what we will never be able to touch any more&lt;br /&gt;We hold our hands like children&lt;br /&gt;Happiness on the lips, a little naïve&lt;br /&gt;And we walk together, in a determine pace&lt;br /&gt;While our heads shout to stop everything&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But he still loves me, and I love you a little stronger&lt;br /&gt;But he still loves me, and I love you a little stronger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nevertheless, he still loves me, and I love you a little stronger&lt;br /&gt;But he still loves me, and I love you a little stronger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: right"&gt;&lt;span class="tit4"&gt;Alors tu vois, comme tout se mele&lt;br /&gt;Et du coeur a tes levres, je deviens un casse-tête&lt;br /&gt;Ton rire me crit, de te lacher&lt;br /&gt;Avant de perdre prise, et d'abandonner&lt;br /&gt;Car je ne t'en demanderai jamais autant&lt;br /&gt;Déja que tu me traites, comme un grand enfant&lt;br /&gt;Nous avons trop rien, a risquer&lt;br /&gt;A part nos vies qu'on laisse de coté&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais il m'aime encore, et moi je t'aime un peu plus fort&lt;br /&gt;Mais il m'aime encore, et moi je t'aime un peu plus fort&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C'en est assez de ces dédoublements&lt;br /&gt;C'est plus dure à faire, qu'autrement&lt;br /&gt;Car sans rire c'est plus facile de rêver&lt;br /&gt;A ce qu'on ne pourra, jamais plus toucher&lt;br /&gt;On se prend la main, comme des enfants&lt;br /&gt;Le bonheur aux lèvres, un peu naivement&lt;br /&gt;Et on marche ensemble, d'un pas décidé&lt;br /&gt;Alors que nos têtes nous crient de tout arrêter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais il m'aime encore, et moi je t'aime un peu plus fort&lt;br /&gt;Mais il m'aime encore, et moi je t'aime un peu plus fort&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et malgré ça, il m'aime encore, et moi je t'aime un peu plus fort&lt;br /&gt;Mais il m'aime encore, et moi je t'aime un peu plus fort&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-4569524904593890232?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/4569524904593890232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/07/coeur-de-pirate-like-children-comme-des.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/4569524904593890232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/4569524904593890232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/07/coeur-de-pirate-like-children-comme-des.html' title='Coeur de Pirate - Like children&lt;br&gt;Comme des enfants'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-2069684353847599257</id><published>2009-08-10T16:35:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T22:09:16.178+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fréhel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Fréhel - The last of the lastLa Der des Der</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d1xP_EXaYLw/SpBebbkiMAI/AAAAAAAAAB4/HzxyK7URsuA/s1600-h/Frehel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 115px; height: 111px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d1xP_EXaYLw/SpBebbkiMAI/AAAAAAAAAB4/HzxyK7URsuA/s200/Frehel.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372898180803473410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fréhel&lt;br /&gt;LA DER DES DER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every Sunday and often on Saturdays&lt;br /&gt;We meet at the popular dance&lt;br /&gt;This is the joy of our life&lt;br /&gt;It gives life a festive air&lt;br /&gt;The tango, the rumba, most of all the java&lt;br /&gt;You and I, we don’t miss one&lt;br /&gt;Before the last dance, we always hear&lt;br /&gt;Each whispers to each:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last of the last&lt;br /&gt;Come Darling to dance it into my arms&lt;br /&gt;It’s with this tune that&lt;br /&gt;The day ends for both of us.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, the musician is really going at it&lt;br /&gt;It seems it’s playing only for us&lt;br /&gt;The last of the last&lt;br /&gt;It’s always the best of the javas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In our love, there are ups and downs&lt;br /&gt;It is not all smiles&lt;br /&gt;The only way, when it is not going right&lt;br /&gt;Among ourselves, I’m going to say it&lt;br /&gt;In a last kiss, we can save everything&lt;br /&gt;The unfaithful can be won back&lt;br /&gt;Go for it with all you heart, it is your happiness&lt;br /&gt;That is calling us to the java.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last of the last&lt;br /&gt;Come Darling to dance it into my arms&lt;br /&gt;It’s on its tune that&lt;br /&gt;The day ends for both of us.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, the musician is really going at it&lt;br /&gt;It seems it’s playing only for us&lt;br /&gt;The last of the last&lt;br /&gt;Before we leave, let’s dance it&lt;br /&gt;The last of the last&lt;br /&gt;It’s always the best of the javas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Fréhel&lt;br /&gt;LA DER DES DER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tous les dimanches et souvent les samedis&lt;br /&gt;On se retrouve au bal musette&lt;br /&gt;C'est ce qui fait la joie de notre vie&lt;br /&gt;Et lui donne un air de fête&lt;br /&gt;Le tango, la rumba, surtout la java&lt;br /&gt;Nous deux, on en rate pas une&lt;br /&gt;Avant le dernier tour, on entend toujours&lt;br /&gt;Chacun murmurer à chacune&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La der des der&lt;br /&gt;Viens chéri dans mes bras la danser&lt;br /&gt;C'est sur son air&lt;br /&gt;Que finit pour nous deux la journée&lt;br /&gt;Le musico met un coup tout d'un coup&lt;br /&gt;On dirait qu'elle ne joue que pour nous&lt;br /&gt;La der des der&lt;br /&gt;Avant de nous quitter, dansons-la&lt;br /&gt;La der des der&lt;br /&gt;C'est toujours la meilleure des javas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dans notre amour, y a des hauts et des bas&lt;br /&gt;Et tout n'est pas que sourires&lt;br /&gt;Le seul moyen, lorsque ça ne va pas&lt;br /&gt;Entre nous, je vais le dire,&lt;br /&gt;Dans un dernier baiser, on peut tout sauver&lt;br /&gt;On peut regagner l'infidèle&lt;br /&gt;Allez-y de tout coeur, c'est votre bonheur&lt;br /&gt;Qui, pour la java, nous appelle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La der des der&lt;br /&gt;Viens chéri dans mes bras la danser&lt;br /&gt;C'est sur son air&lt;br /&gt;Que finit pour nous deux la journée&lt;br /&gt;Le musico met un coup tout d'un coup&lt;br /&gt;On dirait qu'elle ne joue que pour nous&lt;br /&gt;La der des der&lt;br /&gt;Avant de nous quitter, guinchons-la&lt;br /&gt;La der des der&lt;br /&gt;C'est toujours la meilleure des javas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La der des der&lt;br /&gt;Avant de nous quitter, guinchons-la&lt;br /&gt;La der des der&lt;br /&gt;C'est toujours la meilleure des javas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-2069684353847599257?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/2069684353847599257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/08/frehel-last-of-last-la-der-des-der.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2069684353847599257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2069684353847599257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/08/frehel-last-of-last-la-der-des-der.html' title='Fréhel - The last of the last&lt;br&gt;La Der des Der'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d1xP_EXaYLw/SpBebbkiMAI/AAAAAAAAAB4/HzxyK7URsuA/s72-c/Frehel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-8425247428953493763</id><published>2009-08-04T11:02:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T15:09:57.865+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pigalle'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Pigalle - The bar, Martyrs Street  Le bar tabac de la rue des Martyrs</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PpAJvQrA6qA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PpAJvQrA6qA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;In the bar, Martyrs Street&lt;br /&gt;Night girls are waiting for the day, selling pleasure,&lt;br /&gt;Drunkards are opening their heart,&lt;br /&gt;Sliding slowly from the bar to the ground&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the bar, Martyrs Street&lt;br /&gt;The boss got a gun for the naïve who would try to steal the moneybox&lt;br /&gt;In the toilets, words carved on the walls&lt;br /&gt;Talk about giant sex, love and filth, all together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here, everyone forgets the shadow of a past life, of a women, of rubbles&lt;br /&gt;In this gloomy picture, one is trying to forget a perfume, a voice&lt;br /&gt;One puts out the impact, still burning, of  wet and soft half-opened lips&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the bar, Martyrs Street&lt;br /&gt;Some evening, in a corner, they suddenly stop laughing &lt;br /&gt;And when abruptly, the blades get out, everyone leaves,&lt;br /&gt;Throwing themselves on the glass door&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the bar, Martyrs Street&lt;br /&gt;Syringes are greedily emptied into hopeless arms&lt;br /&gt;Here, it is fistful of drug only&lt;br /&gt;Spoons are rarely used for coffee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here, everyone slowly forgets the shadow of a past life, of a women, of rubbles&lt;br /&gt;In this gloomy picture, one is trying to forget a perfume, a voice&lt;br /&gt;One puts out the impact, still burning, of wet and soft half-opened lips&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the bar, Martyrs Street&lt;br /&gt;Old tattooed guys are everywhere, telling their memories&lt;br /&gt;Sad travelers, with overcoats and suitcases&lt;br /&gt;Bookmakers who collect the stakes at night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the bar, Martyrs Street&lt;br /&gt;Everything is to buy, everything is for sale, the better and the worst&lt;br /&gt;An old tramp with a smashed face&lt;br /&gt;Comes in and start to yell "A drink!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the bar, Martyrs Street...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Le bar tabac de la rue des Martyrs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dans la salle du bar tabac de la rue des Martyrs&lt;br /&gt;Y a des filles de nuit qu'attendent le jour en vendant du plaisir&lt;br /&gt;Y a des ivrognes qui s'épanchent au bar&lt;br /&gt;Qui glissent lentement le long du comptoir par terre&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dans la salle du bar tabac de la rue des Martyrs&lt;br /&gt;Le patron a un flingue pour l'ingénu qu'en voudrait à la tirelire&lt;br /&gt;Dans les chiottes les mots gravés sur les murs&lt;br /&gt;Parlent de sexes géants d'amours et d'ordures ensemble&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ici chacun doucement oublie l'ombre d'une vie passée, d'une femme, de décombres&lt;br /&gt;Dans ce cliché funèbre, on cherche l'oubli d'un parfum, d'une voix&lt;br /&gt;On éteint l'impact encore brûlant de lèvres entrouvertes humides et douces&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dans la salle du bar tabac de la rue des Martyrs&lt;br /&gt;Certains soirs tout à coup dans un coin on s'arrête de rire&lt;br /&gt;Et quand brusquement les lames sortent tout le monde dégage&lt;br /&gt;Se jette sur la porte en verre&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dans la salle du bar tabac de la rue des Martyrs&lt;br /&gt;Y a des seringues vidées goulûment dans des bras sans avenir&lt;br /&gt;Ici la dope c'est à la poignée&lt;br /&gt;Les petites cuillères servent que rarement pour le café&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ici chacun douc'ment oublie l'ombre d'une vie passée, d'une femme, de décombres&lt;br /&gt;Dans ce cliché funèbre, on cherche l'oubli d'un parfum, d'une voix&lt;br /&gt;On éteint l'impact encore brûlant de lèvres entrouvertes humides et douces&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dans la salle du bar tabac de la rue des Martyrs&lt;br /&gt;Y a des vieux gars tatoués partout qui racontent leurs souvenirs&lt;br /&gt;Y a des voyageurs tristes pardessus et valises&lt;br /&gt;Y a des bookmakers qui ramassent les mises la nuit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dans la salle du bar tabac de la rue des Martyrs&lt;br /&gt;On peut tout acheter tout vendre le meilleur et le pire&lt;br /&gt;Une vieille clocharde la gueule défoncée&lt;br /&gt;Rentre avec sa poussette et se met à gueuler à boire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dans la salle du bar tabac de la rue des Martyrs&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-8425247428953493763?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/8425247428953493763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/05/pigalle-bar-martyrs-street-le-bar-tabac.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/8425247428953493763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/8425247428953493763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/05/pigalle-bar-martyrs-street-le-bar-tabac.html' title='Pigalle - The bar, Martyrs Street &lt;br&gt; Le bar tabac de la rue des Martyrs'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-2897695717100813911</id><published>2009-08-03T15:11:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T15:43:02.294+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Zouk'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Moroccan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Soumia'/><title type='text'>Soumia - Your silenceTon Silence</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/GFgllmwSvfg&amp;amp;hl=fr&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/GFgllmwSvfg&amp;amp;hl=fr&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasted all my tears,&lt;br /&gt;Without breaking your silence&lt;br /&gt;Even if it freezes and condemns me&lt;br /&gt;This time, I will go straight to the point&lt;br /&gt;In my defence, I will say those words so that my soul does not suffer anymore&lt;br /&gt;All I wanted was you to listen and talk to me,&lt;br /&gt;Understand you and hear me, but you didn't want to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHORUS&lt;br /&gt;Because your silence is your most beautiful weapon&lt;br /&gt;I will never surrender&lt;br /&gt;I will use all my charms&lt;br /&gt;Open your heart You will have lost everything&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to know what you hide&lt;br /&gt;In your thoughts from where I am excluded&lt;br /&gt;I am no longer the one you talk to&lt;br /&gt;I don't recognize you anymore&lt;br /&gt;Believe me, I won't make a fuss about it&lt;br /&gt;Even if what you say kills me&lt;br /&gt;I screamed and whispered, but I hurt myself to this wall of silence&lt;br /&gt;I kept silent, waiting, but it wasn't working anymore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHORUS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You will lost everythingtu auras tout perdu&lt;br /&gt;Open your heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ton silence&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;j'ai gaspillé toute mes larmes,&lt;br /&gt;mais ton silence n'a pas rompu&lt;br /&gt;même s'il me glace et me condamne&lt;br /&gt;cette fois,j'irai tout droit au but&lt;br /&gt;je dirai ces mots pour ma décharge pour que mon âme ne souffre plus&lt;br /&gt;M'écouter, me parler, c'est tout ce que j'espérais&lt;br /&gt;Te comprendre et m'entendre mais tu n'a pas voulu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;REFRAIN&lt;br /&gt;Puisque ton silence c'est ta plus belle arme&lt;br /&gt;Je ne m'avouerai jamais vaincue&lt;br /&gt;Je saurai user de tous mes charmes&lt;br /&gt;Ouvre ton cœur tu auras tout perdu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'aimerais savoir ce que tu cache&lt;br /&gt;Dans tes pensées où tu m'exclues&lt;br /&gt;Je ne suis plus celle à qui tu parles&lt;br /&gt;Je ne te reconnais vraiment plus&lt;br /&gt;Crois-moi je ne ferais pas de drame&lt;br /&gt;Même si t'es parole me tue(yeah yeah yeah)&lt;br /&gt;J'ai hurlé et chuchoté mais à ce mur de silence je me suis heurtée&lt;br /&gt;Je me suis tue et attendue mais ça ne marchait pas non plus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;REFRAIN(x2)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tu auras tout perdu&lt;br /&gt;tu auras tout perdu&lt;br /&gt;ouvre ton coeur&lt;br /&gt;ouh ouh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-2897695717100813911?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/2897695717100813911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/08/soumia-your-silence-ton-silence.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2897695717100813911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2897695717100813911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/08/soumia-your-silence-ton-silence.html' title='Soumia - Your silence&lt;br&gt;Ton Silence'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-9174813623298570388</id><published>2009-08-03T15:04:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T15:08:00.689+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Zazie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Zazie - I send flyingJ'envoie valser</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_TunBlTJ0MY&amp;hl=fr&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_TunBlTJ0MY&amp;hl=fr&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see some who give,&lt;br /&gt;Give to each other jewellery&lt;br /&gt;It's beautiful&lt;br /&gt;But it's only rocks&lt;br /&gt;Stones that role and role&lt;br /&gt;And flow on the cheeks&lt;br /&gt;I like it better when you like me&lt;br /&gt;Without spending your money&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because me, I don't care&lt;br /&gt;I send the fake things flying&lt;br /&gt;The golden cages&lt;br /&gt;You, when you hold me tight&lt;br /&gt;It is a real treasure&lt;br /&gt;And that is worth gold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see some, who throw at each other glances and flowers&lt;br /&gt;Then who leave each other in some place, somewhere&lt;br /&gt;Between roses and cabbages&lt;br /&gt;I know many who should better&lt;br /&gt;Love each other a little&lt;br /&gt;A little like us, who like each other a lot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And send the rings and jewel hearts flying&lt;br /&gt;Because when you strongly love each other&lt;br /&gt;It is a treasure&lt;br /&gt;And that is worth gold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forever, I send gold plated love proofs flying&lt;br /&gt;Since you are holding me thight&lt;br /&gt;It is my treasure&lt;br /&gt;It is you that is worth gold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;J'envoie valser&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'en vois des qui se donnent, donnent&lt;br /&gt;Des bijoux dans le cou&lt;br /&gt;C'est beau mais quand même&lt;br /&gt;Ce n'sont que des cailloux&lt;br /&gt;Des pierres qui vous roulent, roulent&lt;br /&gt;Et qui vous coulent sur les joues&lt;br /&gt;J'aime mieux que tu m'aimes&lt;br /&gt;Sans dépenser tes sous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moi je m'en moque,&lt;br /&gt;J'envoie valser les trucs en toc&lt;br /&gt;Les cages dorées&lt;br /&gt;Toi quand tu m'serres très fort&lt;br /&gt;C'est comme un trésor&lt;br /&gt;Et ça, et ça vaut de l'or&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'en vois des qui s'lancent des regards et des fleurs&lt;br /&gt;Puis qui s'laissent quelque part ou ailleurs&lt;br /&gt;Entre les roses et les choux&lt;br /&gt;J'en connais des tas qui feraient mieux&lt;br /&gt;De s'aimer un peu,&lt;br /&gt;Un peu comme nous qui nous aimons beaucoup&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et d'envoyer ailleurs valser&lt;br /&gt;Les bagues et les cœurs en collier&lt;br /&gt;Car quand on s'aime très fort&lt;br /&gt;C'est comme un trésor&lt;br /&gt;Et ça, et ça vaut de l'or&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moi pour toujours j'envoie valser&lt;br /&gt;Les preuves d'amour en or plaqué&lt;br /&gt;Puisque tu m'serres trs fort&lt;br /&gt;C'est là mon trésor&lt;br /&gt;C'est toi, toi qui vaut de l'or...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-9174813623298570388?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/9174813623298570388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/08/zazie-i-send-flying-jenvoie-valser.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/9174813623298570388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/9174813623298570388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/08/zazie-i-send-flying-jenvoie-valser.html' title='Zazie - I send flying&lt;br&gt;J&apos;envoie valser'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-6687651920564715943</id><published>2009-08-03T11:18:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T12:18:59.830+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oldelaf et Monsieur D'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Oldelaf et Monsieur D - The Coffee  Le café</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UGtKGX8B9hU&amp;amp;hl=fr&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/UGtKGX8B9hU&amp;amp;hl=fr&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To kick start my day&lt;br /&gt;and to wake myself up, I had a coffee&lt;br /&gt;An arabica, black and strong&lt;br /&gt;I slip my parka on, I'm ready to go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Where are you going" shout my beloved&lt;br /&gt;"Let's have a coffee, I just woke up"&lt;br /&gt;Early for work, feeling a bit obliged&lt;br /&gt;I turn back and have another coffee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quarter to eight, one must admit,&lt;br /&gt;Offices are empty, one could be bored&lt;br /&gt;But I keep my cool, I know how to adapt&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for them to arrive, I just have the time for a coffee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day gets carried away, everyone is working,&lt;br /&gt;At least until the time of the coffee break&lt;br /&gt;My secretary arrives "I made it just as you like"&lt;br /&gt;Bugger, I just drank one, but now it's done...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During a business meal, near by the Sentier&lt;br /&gt;The weather is beautiful but I feel stressed&lt;br /&gt;My colleagues make fun of me "Come on René!&lt;br /&gt;"Take a good cigare and a small coffee"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once it is over, my colleagues are wasted,&lt;br /&gt;They call a cab, but I really want to jump!!!&lt;br /&gt;I walk all over Paris, and I see a small café&lt;br /&gt;I order a decaf, but with caffeine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I arrive at the office, my secretary starts:&lt;br /&gt;"You're a bit late, I was worried!"&lt;br /&gt;I throw her through the window!!!&lt;br /&gt;She was really looking for it!&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I have to go home&lt;br /&gt;But first, let's have a coffee!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for the metro, I am attacked&lt;br /&gt;An old lady asks me: "What time is it please?"&lt;br /&gt;Hey! I break her neck and push her on the tracks!&lt;br /&gt;I rush home and grab a ... guess what?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Daddy, my daddy, I am the best in my class!"&lt;br /&gt;FUCK! WHAT AGAIN! PISS OFF!!!&lt;br /&gt;YOU STUPID LITTLE SHIT!&lt;br /&gt;Now, he starts crying!&lt;br /&gt;I lock myself in the kitchen&lt;br /&gt;There is still a little coffee left&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been fourteen days that I'm locked in!&lt;br /&gt;I'm alone in my kitchen drinking coffee!&lt;br /&gt;I should get some sleep!! Cops will get me!!&lt;br /&gt;So I nail the doors and I grab a coffee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Le Café&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Pour bien commencer ma petite journée&lt;br /&gt;et me réveiller, moi j'ai pris un café&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un arabica, noir et bien corsé&lt;br /&gt;j'enfile ma parka, ça y'est je peux y'aller&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Où est-ce que tu vas" me cri mon aimée&lt;br /&gt;"prenons un kawa je viens de me lever"&lt;br /&gt;étant en avance et un peu forcé&lt;br /&gt;je change de sens et reprend un café&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A huit heure moins le quart, il faut bien avouer&lt;br /&gt;les bureaux sont vides on pourrait s'ennuyer&lt;br /&gt;Mais je reste calme, je sais m'adapter&lt;br /&gt;Le temps qu'ils arrivent, j'ai le temps pour un café&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La journée s'emballe, tout le monde peut bosser&lt;br /&gt;Au moins jusqu'à l'heure... de la pause café&lt;br /&gt;Ma secrétaire rentre "j'lai fait comme vous l'aimez"&lt;br /&gt;Ah mince j'viens d'en prendre, mais maintenant qu'il est fait&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un repas d'affaire, tout près du Sentier&lt;br /&gt;Il fait un temps superbe mais je me sens stressé&lt;br /&gt;mes collègues se marrent, "T'es trop fort René!!!"&lt;br /&gt;"Prend un bon cigare et un p'tit café"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Une fois fini, mes collègues crevés&lt;br /&gt;j'appelle un taxi ... mais moi j'ai envie de sauté!!!&lt;br /&gt;Je fais tout Paris, puis je vois un troquet&lt;br /&gt;j'commande un déca, mais re-caféiné&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'arrive au bureau, ma secrétaire me fait:&lt;br /&gt;"Vous êtes un peu en retard, je me suis inquiétée!"&lt;br /&gt;oh! j'la jette par la fenêtre!!! elle l'avait bien cherché !!!&lt;br /&gt;T'façon faut que je rentre, mais d'abord un café!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Attendant le métro, je me fais agresser&lt;br /&gt;une p'tite vieille me dit: "vous avez l'heure s'il vous plaît?"&lt;br /&gt;hé! j'lui casse la tête et j'la pousse sur les quais!!!&lt;br /&gt;Je file à la maison et j'me sert un ... devinez?!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Papa mon papa! En classe je suis premier!"&lt;br /&gt;P'TIN MAIS QUOI!!! T'VAS ARRETER D'ME FAIRE CHIER!!!&lt;br /&gt;MAIS QU'IL EST CON CE GOSSE!!!&lt;br /&gt;Puis en plus il se met a chialer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;je m'enferme dans la cuisine!!! Il reste un peu de café!!!&lt;br /&gt;Ca fait quatorze jours que je suis enfermé!!!&lt;br /&gt;Je suis seul dans ma cuisine et je bois du café!!!&lt;br /&gt;Il faudra bien que je dorme!!!Les flics vont me chopper!!!&lt;br /&gt;Alors je cloue les portes et j'reprends du café!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-6687651920564715943?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/6687651920564715943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/08/oldelaf-et-monsieur-d-coffee-le-cafe.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/6687651920564715943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/6687651920564715943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/08/oldelaf-et-monsieur-d-coffee-le-cafe.html' title='Oldelaf et Monsieur D - The Coffee &lt;br&gt; Le café'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-3626172576810952717</id><published>2009-08-03T00:31:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T10:11:29.057+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marie Laforêt'/><title type='text'>Marie Laforêt - Come, Come Viens, viens</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ev_MUehW1R8&amp;amp;hl=fr&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ev_MUehW1R8&amp;amp;hl=fr&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Come, come) This is a prayer&lt;br /&gt;(Come, come) not for me my father&lt;br /&gt;(Come, come) come back for my mother&lt;br /&gt;(Come, come) she is dying of you&lt;br /&gt;(Come, come) that everything starts again&lt;br /&gt;(Come, come) without you, life&lt;br /&gt;(Come, come) is just a long silence&lt;br /&gt;(Come, come) without end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that this girl is pretty&lt;br /&gt;That for her, you are forgetting your family&lt;br /&gt;I am not here to judge you&lt;br /&gt;But to bring you back&lt;br /&gt;I heard her love holds your soul&lt;br /&gt;Do you believe it is worth the love of your wife&lt;br /&gt;Who shared your destiny&lt;br /&gt;Without letting your hand go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Come, come) mum in September&lt;br /&gt;(Come, come) painted the bedroom again&lt;br /&gt;(Come, come) like before together&lt;br /&gt;(Come, come) you will sleep in it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Come, come) this a prayer&lt;br /&gt;(Come, come) not for me my father&lt;br /&gt;(Come, come) come back for my mother&lt;br /&gt;(Come, come) she is dying of you&lt;br /&gt;Do you know that Jean started school&lt;br /&gt;He already knows the alphabet, he is funny&lt;br /&gt;When he pretends to smoke&lt;br /&gt;He looks just like you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Come, come) this is a prayer&lt;br /&gt;(Come, come) you are smiling my father&lt;br /&gt;(Come, come) you will see my mother&lt;br /&gt;(Come, come) she is more beautiful than before&lt;br /&gt;Before, before...&lt;br /&gt;(Come, come) don't say a word my father&lt;br /&gt;(Come, come) kiss me my father&lt;br /&gt;(Come, come) you are beautiful my father&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Viens, viens&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Viens, viens, c'est une prière&lt;br /&gt;Viens, viens, pas pour moi mon père&lt;br /&gt;Viens, viens, reviens pour ma mère&lt;br /&gt;Viens, viens, elle meurt de toi&lt;br /&gt;Viens, viens, que tout recommence&lt;br /&gt;Viens, viens, sans toi l'existence&lt;br /&gt;Viens, viens, n'est qu'un long silence&lt;br /&gt;Viens, viens, qui n'en finit pas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je sais bien qu'elle est jolie cette fille&lt;br /&gt;Que pour elle tu en oublies ta famille&lt;br /&gt;Je ne suis pas venue te juger&lt;br /&gt;Mais pour te ramener&lt;br /&gt;Il parait que son amour tient ton âme&lt;br /&gt;Crois-tu que ça vaut l'amour de ta femme&lt;br /&gt;Qui a su partager ton destin&lt;br /&gt;Sans te lâcher la main.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Viens, viens, maman en septembre&lt;br /&gt;Viens, viens, a repeint la chambre&lt;br /&gt;Viens, viens, comme avant ensemble&lt;br /&gt;Viens, viens, vous y dormirez&lt;br /&gt;Viens, viens, c'est une prière&lt;br /&gt;Viens, viens, pas pour moi mon père&lt;br /&gt;Viens, viens, reviens pour ma mère&lt;br /&gt;Viens, viens, elle meurt de toi&lt;br /&gt;Sais-tu que Jean est rentré à l'école&lt;br /&gt;Il sait déjà l'alphabet, il est drôle&lt;br /&gt;Quand il fait semblant de fumer&lt;br /&gt;C'est vraiment ton portrait&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Viens, viens, c'est une prière&lt;br /&gt;Viens, viens, tu souris mon père&lt;br /&gt;Viens, viens, tu verras ma mère&lt;br /&gt;Viens, viens, est plus belle qu'avant&lt;br /&gt;Qu'avant, qu'avant, qu'avant, qu'avant&lt;br /&gt;Viens, viens, ne dis rien mon père&lt;br /&gt;Viens, viens, embrasse moi mon père&lt;br /&gt;Viens, viens, tu es beau mon père&lt;br /&gt;La la la la ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-3626172576810952717?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/3626172576810952717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/08/marie-laforet-come-come-viens-viens.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/3626172576810952717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/3626172576810952717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/08/marie-laforet-come-come-viens-viens.html' title='Marie Laforêt - Come, Come &lt;br&gt;Viens, viens'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-7314654411894661156</id><published>2009-07-30T11:28:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T12:00:09.073+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Julio Iglesias'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spanish'/><title type='text'>Julio Iglesias - You Women  Vous les femmes</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7QQi2fLfcyE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7QQi2fLfcyE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You women, you the charm&lt;br /&gt;Your smiles attract us, move us&lt;br /&gt;You angels, adorable&lt;br /&gt;And we men are poor devils&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We surround you with thousands of roses&lt;br /&gt;We love you and without a word, we give you proofs&lt;br /&gt;We believe we are very strong, we think that we know you&lt;br /&gt;We say "Always", you answer "Maybe"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You women, you my drama&lt;br /&gt;You so soft, you the source of our tears&lt;br /&gt;We are poor devils&lt;br /&gt;Vulnerable, miserable, men&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor devils, poor devils...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If  someone smiles at you,&lt;br /&gt;We tend to act as if we were indifferent with more or less  success&lt;br /&gt;We make everything to calm down but then we burst out&lt;br /&gt;We are crazily jealous and that flatters you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You women, you the charm&lt;br /&gt;Your smiles attract us, move us&lt;br /&gt;We are poor devils&lt;br /&gt;Vulnerable, miserable, men&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor devils, poor devils...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Vous les femmes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Vous les femmes, vous le charme&lt;br /&gt;Vos sourires nous attirent nous désarment&lt;br /&gt;Vous les anges, adorables&lt;br /&gt;Et nous sommes nous les hommes pauvres diables&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Avec des milliers de roses on vous entoure&lt;br /&gt;On vous aime et sans le dire on vous le prouve&lt;br /&gt;On se croit très forts on pense vous connaître&lt;br /&gt;On vous dit toujours, vous répondez peut-être&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vous les femmes, vous mon drame&lt;br /&gt;Vous si douces, vous la source de nos larmes&lt;br /&gt;Pauvres diables, que nous sommes&lt;br /&gt;Vulnérables, misérables, nous les hommes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pauvres diables, pauvres diables ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dès qu'un autre vous sourit on a tendance&lt;br /&gt;A jouer plus ou moins bien l'indifférence&lt;br /&gt;On fait tout pour se calmer puis on éclate&lt;br /&gt;On est fous de jalousie et ça vous flatte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vous les femmes vous le charme&lt;br /&gt;Vos sourires nous attirent nous désarment&lt;br /&gt;Pauvres diables que nous sommes&lt;br /&gt;Vulnérables, misérables, nous les hommes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pauvres diables, Pauvres diables, Pauvres diables&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-7314654411894661156?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/7314654411894661156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/07/julio-iglesias-you-women-vous-les.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/7314654411894661156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/7314654411894661156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/07/julio-iglesias-you-women-vous-les.html' title='Julio Iglesias - You Women &lt;br&gt; Vous les femmes'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-8577189410368469553</id><published>2009-07-23T16:13:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T16:32:12.479+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Charles Aznavour'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Armenian'/><title type='text'>Charles Aznavour - To die of loveMourir d'aimer</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1KcBiZ4EA-I&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1KcBiZ4EA-I&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The walls of my life are smooth&lt;br /&gt;I hang on to it but I slide&lt;br /&gt;Slowly towards my fate:&lt;br /&gt;To die of love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While the world is judging me&lt;br /&gt;I can see only one refuge&lt;br /&gt;All exit being condemned for me:&lt;br /&gt;To die of love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To die of love&lt;br /&gt;Willingly sink at night&lt;br /&gt;To pay the love to the price of its life&lt;br /&gt;To sin against the body but not against the mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leaving the world with its problems&lt;br /&gt;Resentful people in front of themselves&lt;br /&gt;With their small ideas:&lt;br /&gt;To die of love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because our love cannot live&lt;br /&gt;It is better to close the book&lt;br /&gt;And rather than to burn it:&lt;br /&gt;To die of love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leave, raising the head,&lt;br /&gt;Go out victorious of a defeat&lt;br /&gt;Knock down all the data:&lt;br /&gt;To die of love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To die of love&lt;br /&gt;As we can die from anything&lt;br /&gt;Abandon everything behind one&lt;br /&gt;To take only what was us, what was you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are the spring,&lt;br /&gt;I am the autumn&lt;br /&gt;Your heart is to be taken, mine is to be given&lt;br /&gt;And my road is already drawn&lt;br /&gt;To die of love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mourir d'aimer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Les parois de ma vie sont lisses&lt;br /&gt;Je m'y accroche mais je glisse&lt;br /&gt;Lentement vers ma destinée:&lt;br /&gt;Mourir d'aimer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tandis que le monde me juge&lt;br /&gt;Je ne vois pour moi qu'un refuge&lt;br /&gt;Toutes issues m'étant condamnées:&lt;br /&gt;Mourir d'aimer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mourir d'aimer&lt;br /&gt;De plein gré s'enfoncer dans la nuit&lt;br /&gt;Payer l'amour au prix de sa vie&lt;br /&gt;Pêcher contre le corps mais non contre l'esprit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laissant le monde à ses problèmes&lt;br /&gt;Les gens haineux face à eux-mêmes&lt;br /&gt;Avec leurs petites idées:&lt;br /&gt;Mourir d'aimer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Puisque notre amour ne peut vivre&lt;br /&gt;Mieux vaut en refermer le livre&lt;br /&gt;Et plutôt que de le brûler:&lt;br /&gt;Mourir d'aimer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Partir en redressant la tête&lt;br /&gt;Sortir vainqueur d'une défaite&lt;br /&gt;Renverser toutes les données:&lt;br /&gt;Mourir d'aimer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mourir d'aimer&lt;br /&gt;Comme on le peut de n'importe quoi&lt;br /&gt;Abandonner tout derrière soi&lt;br /&gt;Pour n'emporter que ce qui fut nous, qui fut toi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tu es le printemps, moi l'automne&lt;br /&gt;Ton coeur se prend, le mien se donne&lt;br /&gt;Et ma route est déjà tracée:&lt;br /&gt;Mourir d'aimer. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-8577189410368469553?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/8577189410368469553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/07/charles-aznavour-to-die-of-love-mourir.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/8577189410368469553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/8577189410368469553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/07/charles-aznavour-to-die-of-love-mourir.html' title='Charles Aznavour - To die of love&lt;br&gt;Mourir d&apos;aimer'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-7293337879162450222</id><published>2009-06-04T15:33:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T15:57:42.035+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Les VRP'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Les VRP - Ramon Perez</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/sb-7uYnAa_U&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/sb-7uYnAa_U&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight...&lt;br /&gt;You went to bed at nine o'clock&lt;br /&gt;In your little heart lays happiness&lt;br /&gt;The light sheets stroke your hair&lt;br /&gt;The whole building felt asleep with you&lt;br /&gt;On the third floor a single light gleams&lt;br /&gt;Poor Spanish without sun&lt;br /&gt;Ramon Perez is not sleepy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ramon Perez cannot sleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are a blond girl, he has dark hair, you have a beautiful body, he is ugly&lt;br /&gt;You love men with money, he works at the factory&lt;br /&gt;When you come home at night, Ramon is here on the stairs&lt;br /&gt;He is here to see you, but you don't want to look at him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ramon Perez cannot sleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, just like the other days, you met him in the stairs&lt;br /&gt;With a vivid light in his eyes, he asked you out for dinner&lt;br /&gt;At his place, the red hangings competed in dirt&lt;br /&gt;In this hovel, madonnas looked like prostitutes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ramon Perez cannot sleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He put you on your knees, asked you to act as a bull&lt;br /&gt;He had a crazy look when he put his sombrero on&lt;br /&gt;With banderillas he mutilated your small body&lt;br /&gt;How sad for a girl to end up in the paella&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ramon Perez&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ce soir...&lt;br /&gt;Tu t'es couchée à neuf heures&lt;br /&gt;Dans ton p'tit cœur c'est le bonheur&lt;br /&gt;Les draps légers te caressent la raie des cheveux&lt;br /&gt;L'immeuble avec toi s'est endormi&lt;br /&gt;Seule au troisième une lueur luit&lt;br /&gt;Pauvre espagnol sans soleil&lt;br /&gt;Ramon Perez n'a pas sommeil&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ra-mon Pe-rez&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ramon Perez, Ramon Perez, Ramon Perez ne peut pas dormir&lt;br /&gt;Ramon Perez, Ramon Perez, Ramon Perez ne peut pas dormir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tu es blonde il est brun, ton corps est beau il est vilain&lt;br /&gt;Tu aimes les hommes à fric il gagne sa vie à la fabrique&lt;br /&gt;Quand tu rentres le soir Ramon est là dans l'escalier&lt;br /&gt;Il est la pour te voir mais tu ne veux pas le regarder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ramon Perez, Ramon Perez, Ramon Perez ne peut pas dormir&lt;br /&gt;Ramon Perez, Ramon Perez, Ramon Perez ne peut pas dormir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un jour comme tous les jours tu l'as croisé dans l'escalier&lt;br /&gt;Le regard plein de braise il t'as propose une bonne bouffe&lt;br /&gt;Chez lui les tentures rouges rivalisaient de saleté&lt;br /&gt;Les madonnes dans ce bouge avaient des airs de prostitués&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ramon Perez, Ramon Perez, Ramon Perez ne peut pas dormir&lt;br /&gt;Ramon Perez, Ramon Perez, Ramon Perez ne peut pas dormir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il t'as mise à genoux t'a demandé d'faire le taureau&lt;br /&gt;Il avait l'air d'un fou quand il a mis son sombrero&lt;br /&gt;A coup de banderilles ton petit corps il mutila&lt;br /&gt;Que c'est triste pour une fille de finir dans la paella&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-7293337879162450222?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/7293337879162450222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/08/les-vrp-ramon-perez.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/7293337879162450222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/7293337879162450222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/08/les-vrp-ramon-perez.html' title='Les VRP - Ramon Perez'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-4102229881572709693</id><published>2009-05-28T11:52:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T11:47:25.657+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Françoise Hardy'/><title type='text'>Françoise Hardy - Personnel messageMessage personnel</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/KJOuuU3i_tg&amp;amp;hl=fr&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/KJOuuU3i_tg&amp;amp;hl=fr&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the line is the sound of your voice &lt;span&gt;and the words that I never shall say&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt;those words that people fear when they don't make them laugh&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt;that have been too often in movies, songs and books&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt;words I'd like to tell you and words I'd like to live&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt;words I never shall say : I want to, I just can't&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span&gt;I'm so lonesome I could die and I know where you are&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt;I'm coming, wait for me, we are about to know each other&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt;Spare me some time, I'll give you all mine&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span&gt;I'd like to come to you, but I always stay,  I hate myself&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;I want to, I just can't&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt;I ought to speak to you, I ought to be with you&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt;or at least try to sleep&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span&gt;I'm afraid you'll be deaf, I'm afraid you'll escape&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt;Afraid I'm indiscreet&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt;And I never shall say that I've fallen for you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But if you think you could love me one day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;don't be afraid of memories and sorrow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;And run, run until you loose your breath&lt;br /&gt;come to me&lt;br /&gt;if you think you could love me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;one day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;And if that day you find it difficult&lt;br /&gt;To find your way&lt;br /&gt;come to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if you are fed up with your life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;if you feel too lazy to live&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;think of me, think of me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;But if you think you could love me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;one day&lt;br /&gt;don't think it is a problem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;and run, run until you loose your breath&lt;br /&gt;come to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;But if you think you could love me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;one day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;don't wait a day, don't wait a week, you can't know&lt;br /&gt;where will your life lead from here&lt;br /&gt;come to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;if you're fed up with your life&lt;br /&gt;if you feel too lazy to live&lt;br /&gt;think of me, think of me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but if you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Françoise Hardy - Message personnel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Au bout du téléphone, il y a votre voix&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt; Et il y a des mots que je ne dirai pas&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt; Tous ces mots qui font peur quand ils ne font pas rire&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt; Qui sont dans trop de films, de chansons et de livres&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt; Je voudrais vous les dire&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt; Et je voudrais les vivre&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt; Je ne le ferai pas,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt; Je veux, je ne peux pas&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span&gt;Je suis seule à crever, et je sais où vous êtes&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt; J'arrive, attendez-moi, nous allons nous connaître&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt; Préparez votre temps, pour vous j'ai tout le mien&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt; Je voudrais arriver, je reste, je me déteste&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt; Je n'arriverai pas,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt; Je veux, je ne peux pas&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt; Je devrais vous parler,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt; Je devrais arriver&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt; Ou je devrais dormir&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span&gt;J'ai peur que tu sois sourd&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt; J'ai peur que tu sois lâche&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt; J'ai peur d'être indiscrète&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt; Je ne peux pas vous dire que je t'aime peut-être&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais si tu crois un jour que tu m'aimes&lt;br /&gt;Ne crois pas que tes souvenirs me gênent&lt;br /&gt;Et cours, cours jusqu'à perdre haleine&lt;br /&gt;Viens me retrouver&lt;br /&gt;Si tu crois un jour que tu m'aimes&lt;br /&gt;Et si ce jour-là tu as de la peine&lt;br /&gt;A trouver où tous ces chemins te mènent&lt;br /&gt;Viens me retrouver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si le dégoût de la vie vient en toi&lt;br /&gt;Si la paresse de la vie&lt;br /&gt;S'installe en toi&lt;br /&gt;Pense à moi&lt;br /&gt;Pense à moi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais si tu crois un jour que tu m'aimes&lt;br /&gt;Ne le considère pas comme un problème&lt;br /&gt;Et cours, cours jusqu'à perdre haleine&lt;br /&gt;Viens me retrouver&lt;br /&gt;Si tu crois un jour que tu m'aimes&lt;br /&gt;N'attends pas un jour, pas une semaine&lt;br /&gt;Car tu ne sais pas où la vie t'emmène&lt;br /&gt;Viens me retrouver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si le dégoût de la vie vient en toi&lt;br /&gt;Si la paresse de la vie&lt;br /&gt;S'installe en toi&lt;br /&gt;Pense à moi&lt;br /&gt;Pense à moi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais si tu...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-4102229881572709693?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/4102229881572709693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/05/francoise-hardy-personnel-message.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/4102229881572709693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/4102229881572709693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/05/francoise-hardy-personnel-message.html' title='Françoise Hardy - Personnel message&lt;br&gt;Message personnel'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-1747372070390399689</id><published>2009-05-27T11:14:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T11:36:12.422+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Julio Iglesias'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spanish'/><title type='text'>Julio Iglesias - I haven't changed Je n'ai pas changé</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1Yz6OrUxBFc&amp;hl=fr&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1Yz6OrUxBFc&amp;hl=fr&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't changed&lt;br /&gt;I am still this stranger&lt;br /&gt;Who was singing ballads to you&lt;br /&gt;Who was inventing Sundays for you&lt;br /&gt;Who makes you travel&lt;br /&gt;I haven't changed&lt;br /&gt;I am still this foolish boy&lt;br /&gt;Who was talking about America&lt;br /&gt;And who wasn't rich enough&lt;br /&gt;To take you to Corfou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you either, you haven't changed&lt;br /&gt;Still the same light perfume&lt;br /&gt;Still the same little smile&lt;br /&gt;Which says a lot without saying it&lt;br /&gt;No, you either, you haven't changed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to protect you&lt;br /&gt;To keep you, to belong to you&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to go back to you&lt;br /&gt;I haven't change&lt;br /&gt;I am still this apprentice poet&lt;br /&gt;Who was writting you poems&lt;br /&gt;Starting with "I love you"&lt;br /&gt;And ending with "to love"&lt;br /&gt;I haven't changed&lt;br /&gt;I still take the path I want&lt;br /&gt;Only one track on earth&lt;br /&gt;Managed to please me:&lt;br /&gt;The one we followed together&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Julio Iglesias - Je n'ai pas changé&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je n'ai pas changé&lt;br /&gt;Je suis toujours ce jeune homme étranger&lt;br /&gt;Qui te chantait des romances&lt;br /&gt;Qui t'inventait des dimanches&lt;br /&gt;Qui te faisaient voyager&lt;br /&gt;Je n'ai pas changé&lt;br /&gt;Je suis toujours ce garçon un peu fou&lt;br /&gt;Qui te parlait d'Amérique&lt;br /&gt;Et n'était pas assez riche&lt;br /&gt;Pour t'emmener à Corfou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et toi non plus tu n'as pas changé&lt;br /&gt;Toujours le même parfum léger&lt;br /&gt;Toujours le même petit sourire&lt;br /&gt;Qui en dit long sans vraiment le dire&lt;br /&gt;Non toi non plus tu n'as pas changé&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'avais envie de te protéger&lt;br /&gt;De te garder de t'appartenir&lt;br /&gt;J'avais envie de te revenir&lt;br /&gt;Je n'ai pas changé&lt;br /&gt;Je suis toujours l'apprenti baladin&lt;br /&gt;Qui t'écrivait des poèmes&lt;br /&gt;Qui commençaient par je t'aime&lt;br /&gt;Et finissaient par aimer&lt;br /&gt;Je n'ai pas changé&lt;br /&gt;Je prends toujours le chemin qui me plaît&lt;br /&gt;Un seul chemin sur la terre&lt;br /&gt;A réussi à me plaire&lt;br /&gt;Celui qu'ensemble on suivait&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-1747372070390399689?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/1747372070390399689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/05/julio-iglesias-i-havent-changed-je-nai.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1747372070390399689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1747372070390399689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/05/julio-iglesias-i-havent-changed-je-nai.html' title='Julio Iglesias - I haven&apos;t changed&lt;br&gt; Je n&apos;ai pas changé'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-1519190337666720558</id><published>2009-05-27T10:11:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T11:07:59.299+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Greek'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nana Mouskouri'/><title type='text'>Nana Mouskouri - Make a fireFais du feu</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kxZz8QbVRNE&amp;amp;hl=fr&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kxZz8QbVRNE&amp;amp;hl=fr&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been snowing in Port-au-Prince&lt;br /&gt;It still raining in Chamonix&lt;br /&gt;One fords the Garonne&lt;br /&gt;The sky is blue in Paris&lt;br /&gt;Winter is upset my friend&lt;br /&gt;Don't go back outside&lt;br /&gt;The world is upside down&lt;br /&gt;One is freezing in the south, one is sweating in the north&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make a fire in the chimney&lt;br /&gt;I am coming home&lt;br /&gt;If it is sunny in Paris&lt;br /&gt;It is sunny everywhere&lt;br /&gt;Make a fire in the chimney&lt;br /&gt;I am coming home&lt;br /&gt;If winter is too canny&lt;br /&gt;We will hibernate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Seine took back its 20 banks&lt;br /&gt;Despite the heavy rain,&lt;br /&gt;If I have frost on my lips&lt;br /&gt;It's because I'm staying up beside it&lt;br /&gt;My heart is upside down my friend&lt;br /&gt;The weither revives the chervil&lt;br /&gt;And I don't want to be alone&lt;br /&gt;When winter will faint&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make a fire in the chimney&lt;br /&gt;I am coming home&lt;br /&gt;If it is sunny in Paris&lt;br /&gt;It is sunny everywhere&lt;br /&gt;Make a fire in the chimney&lt;br /&gt;I am coming home&lt;br /&gt;If winter is too canny&lt;br /&gt;We will hibernate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bring back in my luggages&lt;br /&gt;An unfamiliar taste&lt;br /&gt;Half tamed half wild&lt;br /&gt;This is love for my vegetable garden&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make a fire in the chimney&lt;br /&gt;I am coming home&lt;br /&gt;If it is sunny in Paris&lt;br /&gt;It is sunny everywhere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nana Mouskouri - Fais du feu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il a neigé à Port-au-Prince&lt;br /&gt;Il pleut encore à Chamonix&lt;br /&gt;On traverse à gué la Garonne&lt;br /&gt;Le ciel est plein d' bleu à Paris&lt;br /&gt;Ami l'hiver est à l'envers&lt;br /&gt;Ne t'en retourne pas dehors&lt;br /&gt;Le monde est en chamaille&lt;br /&gt;On gèle au sud, on sue au nord&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fais du feu dans la cheminée&lt;br /&gt;Je reviens chez nous&lt;br /&gt;S'il fait du soleil à Paris&lt;br /&gt;Il en fait partout&lt;br /&gt;Fais du feu dans la cheminée&lt;br /&gt;Je rentre chez moi&lt;br /&gt;Et si l'hiver est trop rusé&lt;br /&gt;On hibernera&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La Seine a repris ses vingt berges&lt;br /&gt;Malgré les lourdes giboulées&lt;br /&gt;Si j'ai du frimas sur les lèvres&lt;br /&gt;C'est que je veille à ses côtés&lt;br /&gt;Ami j'ai le cœur à l'envers&lt;br /&gt;Le temps ravive le cerfeuil&lt;br /&gt;Et je ne veux pas être seule&lt;br /&gt;Quand l'hiver tournera de l'œil&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fais du feu dans la cheminée&lt;br /&gt;Je reviens chez nous&lt;br /&gt;S'il fait du soleil à Paris&lt;br /&gt;Il en fait partout&lt;br /&gt;Fais du feu dans la cheminée&lt;br /&gt;Je rentre chez moi&lt;br /&gt;Et si l'hiver est trop rusé&lt;br /&gt;On hibernera&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je rapporte avec mes bagages&lt;br /&gt;Un goût qui m'était étranger&lt;br /&gt;Moitié dompté moitié sauvage&lt;br /&gt;C'est l'amour de mon potager&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fais du feu dans la cheminée&lt;br /&gt;Je reviens chez nous&lt;br /&gt;S'il fait du soleil à Paris&lt;br /&gt;Il en fait partout&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-1519190337666720558?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/1519190337666720558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/05/nana-mouskouri-make-fire-fais-du-feu.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1519190337666720558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1519190337666720558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/05/nana-mouskouri-make-fire-fais-du-feu.html' title='Nana Mouskouri - Make a fire&lt;br&gt;Fais du feu'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-2757333191126685458</id><published>2009-05-25T12:01:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T15:02:38.768+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Zazie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Zazie - I send flyingJ'envoie valser</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_TunBlTJ0MY&amp;amp;hl=fr&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_TunBlTJ0MY&amp;amp;hl=fr&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see some who give,&lt;br /&gt;Give to each other jewellery&lt;br /&gt;It's beautiful&lt;br /&gt;But it's only rocks&lt;br /&gt;Stones that role and role&lt;br /&gt;And flow on the cheeks&lt;br /&gt;I like it better when you like me&lt;br /&gt;Without spending your money&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because me, I don't care&lt;br /&gt;I send the fake things flying&lt;br /&gt;The golden cages&lt;br /&gt;You, when you hold me tight&lt;br /&gt;It is a real treasure&lt;br /&gt;And that is worth gold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see some, who throw at each other glances and flowers&lt;br /&gt;Then who leave each other in some place, somewhere&lt;br /&gt;Between roses and cabbages&lt;br /&gt;I know many who should better&lt;br /&gt;Love each other a little&lt;br /&gt;A little like us, who like each other a lot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I send the rings and jewel hearts flying&lt;br /&gt;Because when you strongly love each other&lt;br /&gt;It is a treasure&lt;br /&gt;And that is worth gold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forever, I send gold plated love proofs flying&lt;br /&gt;Since you are holding me thight&lt;br /&gt;It is my treasure&lt;br /&gt;It is you that is worth gold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'en vois des qui se donnent, donnent&lt;br /&gt;Des bijoux dans le cou&lt;br /&gt;C'est beau mais quand même&lt;br /&gt;Ce n'sont que des cailloux&lt;br /&gt;Des pierres qui vous roulent, roulent&lt;br /&gt;Et qui vous coulent sur les joues&lt;br /&gt;J'aime mieux que tu m'aimes&lt;br /&gt;Sans dépenser tes sous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moi je m'en moque,&lt;br /&gt;J'envoie valser les trucs en toc&lt;br /&gt;Les cages dorées&lt;br /&gt;Toi quand tu m'serres très fort&lt;br /&gt;C'est comme un trésor&lt;br /&gt;Et ça, et ça vaut de l'or&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'en vois des qui s'lancent des regards et des fleurs&lt;br /&gt;Puis qui s'laissent quelque part ou ailleurs&lt;br /&gt;Entre les roses et les choux&lt;br /&gt;J'en connais des tas qui feraient mieux&lt;br /&gt;De s'aimer un peu,&lt;br /&gt;Un peu comme nous qui nous aimons beaucoup&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et d'envoyer ailleurs valser&lt;br /&gt;Les bagues et les cœurs en collier&lt;br /&gt;Car quand on s'aime très fort&lt;br /&gt;C'est comme un trésor&lt;br /&gt;Et ça, et ça vaut de l'or&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moi pour toujours j'envoie valser&lt;br /&gt;Les preuves d'amour en or plaqué&lt;br /&gt;Puisque tu m'serres trs fort&lt;br /&gt;C'est là mon trésor&lt;br /&gt;C'est toi, toi qui vaut de l'or...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-2757333191126685458?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/2757333191126685458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/05/zazie-i-send-flying-jenvoie-valser.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2757333191126685458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2757333191126685458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/05/zazie-i-send-flying-jenvoie-valser.html' title='Zazie - I send flying&lt;br&gt;J&apos;envoie valser'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-8630197666897306993</id><published>2009-05-25T09:55:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T11:00:30.113+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Téléphone'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Téléphone - The Human Bomb  La bombe humaine</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/k_f8jnnrl8M&amp;amp;hl=fr&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/k_f8jnnrl8M&amp;amp;hl=fr&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to talk to you about the wheapon of tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;Born from the world, it will be its ending&lt;br /&gt;I want to talk to you about myself&lt;br /&gt;About yourself&lt;br /&gt;Inside, I see images, colors&lt;br /&gt;That are not mine, that scare me sometimes&lt;br /&gt;Sensations that can drive me crazy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our senses are our strings&lt;br /&gt;We, poor puppets&lt;br /&gt;Our senses are the path&lt;br /&gt;That lead straight into our head&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Human Bomb&lt;br /&gt;You have it in your hand&lt;br /&gt;You've got the detonator&lt;br /&gt;Next to your heart&lt;br /&gt;The Human Bomb&lt;br /&gt;It is you, it belongs to you&lt;br /&gt;If you let someone handle your destiny&lt;br /&gt;It is the end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My father doesn't sleep anymore&lt;br /&gt;Without his sleeping pills&lt;br /&gt;Mum doens't work anymore&lt;br /&gt;Without her exciting pills&lt;br /&gt;Somebody sells them&lt;br /&gt;What they need to hold on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am an electron&lt;br /&gt;Bombed with protons&lt;br /&gt;The rythm of the city&lt;br /&gt;Is my true boss&lt;br /&gt;I am charged with electricity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If by mysfortune,&lt;br /&gt;In the heart of the accelerator&lt;br /&gt;I meet a particle&lt;br /&gt;That put me in a bad mood&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nooo, I shouldn't let myself go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;La Bombe Humaine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Je veux vous parler de l'arme de demain&lt;br /&gt;Enfantée du monde, elle&lt;br /&gt;en sera la fin&lt;br /&gt;Je veux vous parler de moi&lt;br /&gt;De vous&lt;br /&gt;Je vois à l'intérieur des images, des couleurs&lt;br /&gt;Qui ne sont pas à moi, qui parfois me font peur&lt;br /&gt;Sensations, qui peuvent me rendre fou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nos sens sont nos fils&lt;br /&gt;Nous, pauvres marionnettes&lt;br /&gt;Nos sens sont les chemins&lt;br /&gt;Qui mènent droit à nos têtes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La Bombe Humaine&lt;br /&gt;Tu la tiens dans ta main&lt;br /&gt;Tu as l'détonateur&lt;br /&gt;Juste à coté du cœur&lt;br /&gt;La Bombe Humaine&lt;br /&gt;C'est toi elle t'appartient&lt;br /&gt;Si tu laisses quelqu'un&lt;br /&gt;Prendre en main ton destin&lt;br /&gt;C'est la fin....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mon père ne dort plus&lt;br /&gt;Sans prendre ses calmants&lt;br /&gt;Maman ne travaille plus&lt;br /&gt;Sans ses excitants&lt;br /&gt;Quelqu'un leur vend&lt;br /&gt;De quoi tenir le coup&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je suis un électron&lt;br /&gt;Bombardé de protons&lt;br /&gt;Le rythme de la ville&lt;br /&gt;C'est ça mon vrai patron&lt;br /&gt;Je suis chargé....... d'électricité&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si par malheur&lt;br /&gt;Au coeur&lt;br /&gt;De l'accélérateur&lt;br /&gt;J'rencontre une particule&lt;br /&gt;Qui me mette de sale humeur&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mh noooon, ' faudrait pas que j'me laisse aller&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La Bombe Humaine&lt;br /&gt;Tu la tiens dans ta main&lt;br /&gt;Tu as l'détonateur&lt;br /&gt;Juste à coté du cœur&lt;br /&gt;La Bombe Humaine&lt;br /&gt;C'est toi elle t'appartient&lt;br /&gt;Si tu laisses quelqu'un&lt;br /&gt;Prendre en main ton destin&lt;br /&gt;C'est la fin....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-8630197666897306993?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/8630197666897306993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/05/telephone-human-bomb-la-bombe-humaine.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/8630197666897306993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/8630197666897306993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/05/telephone-human-bomb-la-bombe-humaine.html' title='Téléphone - The Human Bomb &lt;br&gt; La bombe humaine'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-2117178237744214061</id><published>2009-05-24T11:16:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T11:06:59.019+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Les VRP'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Les VRP - Leo</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/RsLW5xNYZeQ&amp;hl=fr&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/RsLW5xNYZeQ&amp;hl=fr&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When her mother gave birth to Leo&lt;br /&gt;She died right away&lt;br /&gt;In the rubbles of a bar&lt;br /&gt;It was war&lt;br /&gt;He grew up we don't know how&lt;br /&gt;Inventing for himself many mums&lt;br /&gt;Prostitutes, poor people&lt;br /&gt;The true poverty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has some fluency&lt;br /&gt;And he wasn't stupid&lt;br /&gt;So when he was a teanager&lt;br /&gt;he became gigolo&lt;br /&gt;In the bed of rich women&lt;br /&gt;I gave his gifts&lt;br /&gt;When you want too much money&lt;br /&gt;You end up in jail&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the darkness of a cell&lt;br /&gt;Poor Leo has been locked in&lt;br /&gt;With bandits and scums&lt;br /&gt;It was winter&lt;br /&gt;"'Heard that you were a prostitute,&lt;br /&gt;Told him a guy in his cell,&lt;br /&gt;You should be able to warm us up though&lt;br /&gt;Don't make a fuss!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In bad spirits&lt;br /&gt;Wishing to die&lt;br /&gt;Opening the paper, he read:&lt;br /&gt;"You can write me&lt;br /&gt;My nickname is Lila&lt;br /&gt;You, you are a prisonner&lt;br /&gt;If you want, write me&lt;br /&gt;I will be your freedom"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many years passed&lt;br /&gt;Before Leo was released&lt;br /&gt;But one day it's over&lt;br /&gt;They free him&lt;br /&gt;He's gonna meet her&lt;br /&gt;The one he calls "my Dulcinée"&lt;br /&gt;He will cover her with kisses&lt;br /&gt;He is showing off&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;He passes on the sidewalk&lt;br /&gt;A coffin made of black wood&lt;br /&gt;Waves at the crying men&lt;br /&gt;And steal a flower&lt;br /&gt;He arrives exited&lt;br /&gt;And breathless he knocks&lt;br /&gt;But the one he loved&lt;br /&gt;He just passed her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this small appartment&lt;br /&gt;There was nothing of much importance&lt;br /&gt;But on the table two instruments&lt;br /&gt;and a letter&lt;br /&gt;"My little Leo don't waste you life&lt;br /&gt;Do that for me I beg you&lt;br /&gt;Take this bow and this saw&lt;br /&gt;Become honest"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the street he settles in&lt;br /&gt;Plays musical saw&lt;br /&gt;But he's such a bad player&lt;br /&gt;That even the deafs talk about him&lt;br /&gt;The neibourghs exasperated&lt;br /&gt;With all this good will&lt;br /&gt;One day had too&lt;br /&gt;Chase him out of the neighbourhood&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And one day in the bars&lt;br /&gt;When nothing new was happening&lt;br /&gt;In the papers you could read&lt;br /&gt;In the news in bref&lt;br /&gt;"Under a truck was found&lt;br /&gt;The body of a poor vagabon&lt;br /&gt;His arms sawed and a bow&lt;br /&gt;It is a mystery".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If still nowadays&lt;br /&gt;This tune is heard&lt;br /&gt;It's because from his backyard&lt;br /&gt;One day a musician&lt;br /&gt;Without thinking about it&lt;br /&gt;Looking for a new tune&lt;br /&gt;Wrote for an orchestra&lt;br /&gt;The screams of Leo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;Quand sa mère accoucha d'Léo&lt;br /&gt;C'était pour mourir aussitôt&lt;br /&gt;Dans les décombres d'un bistrot&lt;br /&gt;C'était la guerre&lt;br /&gt;Il a grandi on ne sait comment&lt;br /&gt;En s'inventant plein de mamans&lt;br /&gt;Des prostituées, des sans-argent&lt;br /&gt;La vraie misère&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comme il avait de l'aisance&lt;br /&gt;Et n'était pas idiot A son adolescence&lt;br /&gt;Il devint gigolo&lt;br /&gt;Dans le lit des femmes chics&lt;br /&gt;Il fit don de ses dons&lt;br /&gt;A vouloir trop de fric On finit en prison&lt;br /&gt;Dans la pénombre d'un cachot&lt;br /&gt;On enferma le pauv'Léo&lt;br /&gt;Avec les brigands les salauds&lt;br /&gt;C'était l'hiver&lt;br /&gt;«Paraît qu't'étais un prostitué,&lt;br /&gt;Lui dit un gars dans sa chambrée,&lt;br /&gt;Tu vas pouvoir nous réchauffer&lt;br /&gt;Fais pas d'manières !"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;N'ayant plus le moral&lt;br /&gt;Et voulant en finir&lt;br /&gt;En ouvrant un journal il lut :&lt;br /&gt;"Tu peut m'écrire&lt;br /&gt;Mon p'tit nom c'est Lila&lt;br /&gt;Toi tu es prisonnier&lt;br /&gt;Si tu veux écris-moi&lt;br /&gt;Je s'rais ta liberté"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il a fallu bien des années&lt;br /&gt;Avant que Léo soit relâché&lt;br /&gt;Mais un beau jour c'est terminé&lt;br /&gt;On le libère&lt;br /&gt;Il va pouvoir la rencontrer&lt;br /&gt;Celle qu'il appelle «ma Dulcinée»&lt;br /&gt;Il va la couvrir de baisers&lt;br /&gt;Il fait le fier&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il croise sur le trottoir&lt;br /&gt;Un cercueil de bois noir&lt;br /&gt;Salue les hommes en pleurs&lt;br /&gt;Et dérobe une fleur&lt;br /&gt;Il arrive excité&lt;br /&gt;Et frappe tout essoufflé&lt;br /&gt;Mais celle qu'il a aimé&lt;br /&gt;Il vient de la croiser&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dans ce petit appartement&lt;br /&gt;Y avait pas grand chose d'important&lt;br /&gt;Mais sur une table deux instruments&lt;br /&gt;Et une lettre&lt;br /&gt;«Mon p'tit Léo gâche pas ta vie,&lt;br /&gt;Fais ça pour moi je t'en supplie&lt;br /&gt;Prends cet archet et cette scie&lt;br /&gt;Deviens honnête »&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dans la rue il s'installe,&lt;br /&gt;Joue d'la scie musicale&lt;br /&gt;Mais il joue tellement mal&lt;br /&gt;Que même les sourds en parlent&lt;br /&gt;Les voisins excédés&lt;br /&gt;Par tant d'bonne volonté&lt;br /&gt;Un jour furent obligés&lt;br /&gt;De l'chasser du quartier&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et puis un jour dans les bistrots&lt;br /&gt;Qu'y s'passait rien de très nouveau&lt;br /&gt;On a pu lire dans les journaux&lt;br /&gt;Ce fait divers :&lt;br /&gt;«On a r'trouvé sous un camion&lt;br /&gt;Le corps d'un pauvre vagabond&lt;br /&gt;Les bras sciés et un archet&lt;br /&gt;C'est un mystère»&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si encore de nos jours&lt;br /&gt;On entend ce refrain&lt;br /&gt;C'est qu'du fond de sa cour&lt;br /&gt;Un jour, un musicien&lt;br /&gt;Sans s'en douter du reste&lt;br /&gt;Cherchant un air nouveau&lt;br /&gt;A écrit pour orchestre&lt;br /&gt;Les hurlements d'Léo ! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-2117178237744214061?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/2117178237744214061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/les-vrp-leo.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2117178237744214061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2117178237744214061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/les-vrp-leo.html' title='Les VRP - Leo'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-8941301309027534929</id><published>2009-01-12T11:16:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-05-24T10:39:50.795+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kat Flint'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='British'/><title type='text'>Kat Flint - Go Faster Stripes</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/N5bQZuv6vhk&amp;amp;hl=pl&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/N5bQZuv6vhk&amp;amp;hl=pl&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amour, quand viendras-tu pour moi?&lt;br /&gt;Je ne t'attendrai pas en vain&lt;br /&gt;Je dormirai comme les morts&lt;br /&gt;Je dormirai comme les morts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amour, est-ce que tu te souviendras de moi?&lt;br /&gt;Je ne t'attendrai pas pour toujours&lt;br /&gt;Ou alors j'attendrai avec les morts&lt;br /&gt;J'attendrai avec le mort&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Le temps ne sera jamais le plus gentil des professeurs&lt;br /&gt;Mon doux amour, elle sera toujours ta nouvelle meilleure amie&lt;br /&gt;Les meilleurs choses grandissent dans les pires désastres&lt;br /&gt;Les meilleurs choses grandissent quand nous recommençons&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai décidé que je n'avouerai jamais&lt;br /&gt;Et j'ai décidé qu'on ne me démasquerait pas&lt;br /&gt;Rêvant et me réveillant et défoncée et prenant mon temps&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Le temps ne sera jamais le plus gentil des professeurs&lt;br /&gt;et amour, elle t'accueille accompagnée d'un ami perdu depuis longtemps&lt;br /&gt;Les meilleurs choses grandissent dans les pires désastres&lt;br /&gt;Les meilleurs choses grandissent quand nous recommençons&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quand tu bouges si lentement&lt;br /&gt;D'abord tu n'arrives nulle part et puis tu n'as nulle part où aller&lt;br /&gt;Et c'est tout ce que tu as besoin de savoir&lt;br /&gt;tout ce que tu as besoin de savoir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Le temps ne sera jamais le plus gentil des professeurs&lt;br /&gt;L'amour ne sera jamais un ami pour la vie&lt;br /&gt;Les meilleurs choses grandissent dans les pires désastres&lt;br /&gt;Les meilleurs choses grandissent quand nous recommençons&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Oh love, when will you come for me?&lt;br /&gt;I won't wait for you needlessly&lt;br /&gt;I will be sleeping like the dead&lt;br /&gt;I will be sleeping like the dead&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh love, will you remember me?&lt;br /&gt;I won't wait for you endlessly&lt;br /&gt;Or I'll be waiting with the dead&lt;br /&gt;I'll be waiting with the dead, I will&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And time will never be your kindest master&lt;br /&gt;Sweet love, she'll always be your new best friend&lt;br /&gt;The best things grow from the worst disasters&lt;br /&gt;The best things grow when we begin again&lt;br /&gt;La la la lala la la la...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I decided I would never own up&lt;br /&gt;And I decided I would never be shown up&lt;br /&gt;Dreaming and waking and wasted and taking my time&lt;br /&gt;La la la lala la la la&lt;br /&gt;La la la lala la la-a...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time will never be your kindest master&lt;br /&gt;And love, she greets you like a long-lost friend&lt;br /&gt;The best things grow from the worst disasters&lt;br /&gt;The best things grow when we begin again&lt;br /&gt;La la la lala la la la&lt;br /&gt;La la la lala la la-a...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ooh... when you move so slow&lt;br /&gt;First you get nowhere then you've nowhere to go&lt;br /&gt;And that's all you need to know&lt;br /&gt;All you need to know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And time will never be your kindest master&lt;br /&gt;Love will never be a lifelong friend&lt;br /&gt;The best things grow from the worst disasters&lt;br /&gt;The best things grow when we begin again&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-8941301309027534929?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/8941301309027534929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/01/kat-flint-go-faster-stripes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/8941301309027534929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/8941301309027534929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/01/kat-flint-go-faster-stripes.html' title='Kat Flint - Go Faster Stripes'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-5221053190598324000</id><published>2009-01-07T14:50:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-01-07T15:18:53.758Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pauline Croze'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Pauline Croze - Good Bye KissBaiser d'adieu</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/86vY8N6nR8M&amp;amp;hl=pl&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/86vY8N6nR8M&amp;amp;hl=pl&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had put down on your sleeping lips&lt;br /&gt;A furtive kiss, a light kiss.&lt;br /&gt;On the bedside table, without a noise&lt;br /&gt;Near a photo, I left a message.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a kiss, the lightest&lt;br /&gt;It's a farewell kiss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the message, there are few simple sentences&lt;br /&gt;Why I'm leaving you, how I  love you.&lt;br /&gt;In the rain, I walk, I laugh alone&lt;br /&gt;I think about your pretty face, your clumsy words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a kiss, the lightest&lt;br /&gt;It's a farewell kiss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had put down on your sleeping lips&lt;br /&gt;A furtive kiss, a light kiss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But once outside,&lt;br /&gt;The delicious taste of the farewell kiss&lt;br /&gt;Refuses to leave me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then without thinking, I turn back.&lt;br /&gt;It's really ridiculous, now I'm running.&lt;br /&gt;In the dark bedroom, I burnt the message.&lt;br /&gt;You're still sleeping&lt;br /&gt;I put down on your lips&lt;br /&gt;A kiss, the lightest&lt;br /&gt;It's a farewell kiss.&lt;br /&gt;It's a kiss, the lightest&lt;br /&gt;It's a radiant kiss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Baiser d'adieu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'avais déposé sur tes lèvres endormies&lt;br /&gt;un baiser furtif, un baiser léger&lt;br /&gt;Sur la table de chevet, sans un bruit&lt;br /&gt;Près d'une photo, j'ai laissé un mot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C'est un baiser le plus léger&lt;br /&gt;C'est un baiser d'Adieu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sur le mot, il y a quelques phrases simples&lt;br /&gt;Pourquoi je te quitte, comment je t'aime&lt;br /&gt;Sous la pluie, je marche, je ris toute seule&lt;br /&gt;Je pense à ta jolie gueule, à tes mots maladroits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C'est un baiser le plus léger&lt;br /&gt;C'est un baiser d'Adieu.&lt;br /&gt;C'est un baiser le plus léger&lt;br /&gt;C'est un baiser d'Adieu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'avais déposé sur tes lèvres endormies&lt;br /&gt;un baiser furtif, un baiser léger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais sitôt sortie,&lt;br /&gt;Le goût délicieux du baiser d'adieu&lt;br /&gt;Refuse de me quitter.&lt;br /&gt;Alors sans y penser je fais demi-tour.&lt;br /&gt;C'est vraiment ridicule voilà que je cours&lt;br /&gt;Dans la chambre noire j'ai brulé le mot&lt;br /&gt;Tu dors Encore&lt;br /&gt;Je pose sur tes lèvres&lt;br /&gt;un baiser le plus léger&lt;br /&gt;C'est un baiser d'adieu&lt;br /&gt;C'un baiser le plus léger&lt;br /&gt;C'est un baiser radieux. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-5221053190598324000?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/5221053190598324000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/01/pauline-croze-good-bye-kiss-baiser.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/5221053190598324000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/5221053190598324000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2009/01/pauline-croze-good-bye-kiss-baiser.html' title='Pauline Croze - Good Bye Kiss&lt;br&gt;Baiser d&apos;adieu'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-1410488701257107154</id><published>2008-12-15T10:14:00.008Z</published><updated>2008-12-15T11:18:06.842Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Enrico Macias'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Algerian'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Enrico Macias - For all these reasons, I love you  Pour toutes ces raisons, je t'aime</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/iYYMMN1_8OE&amp;amp;hl=pl&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/iYYMMN1_8OE&amp;amp;hl=pl&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You gave your woman's smile&lt;br /&gt;Your sweet tears that I can't forget&lt;br /&gt;With you, I lived light years&lt;br /&gt;Houses of cards and wooden fires&lt;br /&gt;For all these reasons, I love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the exile's nights, we were together&lt;br /&gt;My son, my daughter, they are indeed from you&lt;br /&gt;You are like me and I am like you&lt;br /&gt;I am an orphan when you are not there&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;For all these reasons, I love you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no medal, I came as I am&lt;br /&gt;I am a madman of love, a madman of you&lt;br /&gt;I spent my life, my life waiting for you&lt;br /&gt;But I won your love&lt;br /&gt;Bunches of flowers are nothing&lt;br /&gt;I don't sing any more as soon as you go away&lt;br /&gt;You know by heart my life, my story&lt;br /&gt;My love songs still speak about you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;For all these reasons, I love you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I have no medal, I came as I am&lt;br /&gt;I am a madman of love, a madman of you&lt;br /&gt;I spent my life, my life waiting for you&lt;br /&gt;But I won your love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;For all these reasons, I love you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw in your eyes the water of the tenderness&lt;br /&gt;which goes of the forgiveness to your memories&lt;br /&gt;You promised nothing, I am your promise&lt;br /&gt;And it is with you that I want to age&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;For all these reasons, I love you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I love you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pour toutes ces raisons, je t'aime&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toi tu m'as donné ton sourire de femme&lt;br /&gt;Tes larmes sucrées que je n'oublie pas&lt;br /&gt;Avec toi j'ai eu des années lumière&lt;br /&gt;Des châteaux de cartes et des feux de bois&lt;br /&gt;Pour toutes ces raisons, je t'aime&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les nuits de l'exil, on était ensemble&lt;br /&gt;Mon fils et ma fille, ils sont bien de toi&lt;br /&gt;Tu es comme moi et je te ressemble&lt;br /&gt;Je suis orphelin quand tu n'es pas la&lt;br /&gt;Pour toutes ces raisons, je t'aime&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je n'ai pas de médaille, je suis venu comme ça&lt;br /&gt;Je suis un homme un fou d'amour, un fou de toi&lt;br /&gt;J'ai passé ma vie, ma vie à t'attendre&lt;br /&gt;Mais j'ai gagné l'amour de toi&lt;br /&gt;Les bouquets de fleurs semblent dérisoires&lt;br /&gt;Je ne chante plus dès que tu t'en vas&lt;br /&gt;Tu connais par coeur ma vie, mon histoire&lt;br /&gt;Mes chansons d'amour parlent encore de toi&lt;br /&gt;Pour toutes ces raisons, je t'aime&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je n'ai pas de médaille, je suis venu comme ça&lt;br /&gt;Je suis un homme un fou d'amour, un fou de toi&lt;br /&gt;J'ai passé ma vie, ma vie à t'attendre&lt;br /&gt;Mais j'ai gagné l'amour de toi&lt;br /&gt;Pour toutes ces raisons; je t'aime&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai vu dans tes yeux l'eau de la tendresse&lt;br /&gt;Qui va du pardon à tes souvenirs&lt;br /&gt;Tu n'as rien promis, je suis ta promesse&lt;br /&gt;Et c'est avec toi que je veux vieillir&lt;br /&gt;Pour toutes ces raisons, je t'aime&lt;br /&gt;Je t'aime&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-1410488701257107154?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/1410488701257107154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2008/12/pour-toutes-ces-raisons-je-taime-for.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1410488701257107154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1410488701257107154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2008/12/pour-toutes-ces-raisons-je-taime-for.html' title='Enrico Macias - For all these reasons, I love you &lt;br&gt; Pour toutes ces raisons, je t&apos;aime'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-3824938348380470232</id><published>2008-12-12T12:24:00.009Z</published><updated>2009-08-24T16:49:10.063+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Camille'/><title type='text'>Camille - So that love leaves me  Pour que l'amour me quitte</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mj-beY7G5Rg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mj-beY7G5Rg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Found asleep,&lt;br /&gt;With wet hair,&lt;br /&gt;Folded up arm,&lt;br /&gt;Window opened,&lt;br /&gt;The air&lt;br /&gt;Through the window&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that the love leaves me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While sleeping I dreamed&lt;br /&gt;About thousand creepers,&lt;br /&gt;Paddled,&lt;br /&gt;Paddled&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that the love leaves me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awake&lt;br /&gt;In the pale light&lt;br /&gt;Of the hospital's walls,&lt;br /&gt;To love so much is abnormal&lt;br /&gt;A so hurt heart&lt;br /&gt;Hung on,&lt;br /&gt;Taken down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that the love leaves me&lt;br /&gt;Love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pour que l'amour me quitte&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Endormie&lt;br /&gt;Cheveux mouillés&lt;br /&gt;Bras repliés&lt;br /&gt;Retrouvée fenêtre ouverte&lt;br /&gt;L'air&lt;br /&gt;Par la fenêtre&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pour que l'Amour me quitte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En dormant j'ai rêvé&lt;br /&gt;Des milles lianes&lt;br /&gt;Pagayé,&lt;br /&gt;Pagayé&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pour que l'Amour me quitte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Réveillée&lt;br /&gt;La lumière pâle&lt;br /&gt;Des murs de l'hôpital&lt;br /&gt;Trop aimer c'est pas normal&lt;br /&gt;Un coeur si mal&lt;br /&gt;Accroché,&lt;br /&gt;Décroché&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pour que l'Amour me quitte&lt;br /&gt;Amour&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-3824938348380470232?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/3824938348380470232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2008/12/so-that-love-leaves-me.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/3824938348380470232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/3824938348380470232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2008/12/so-that-love-leaves-me.html' title='Camille - So that love leaves me &lt;br&gt; Pour que l&apos;amour me quitte'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-2011283877858694941</id><published>2008-11-28T10:45:00.006Z</published><updated>2008-12-15T11:20:07.288Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jean-Louis Aubert'/><title type='text'>Jean-Louis Aubert - Alter Ego</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xdrb38PgPIA&amp;amp;hl=pl&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xdrb38PgPIA&amp;amp;hl=pl&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ALTER EGO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss a time in my life&lt;br /&gt;I miss a time, now I understand&lt;br /&gt;I miss you&lt;br /&gt;My alter ego&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You’re gone, my friend&lt;br /&gt;You left me alone here&lt;br /&gt;But you follow me everywhere&lt;br /&gt;My alter ego&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where are you&lt;br /&gt;Where do you live&lt;br /&gt;I will find you&lt;br /&gt;Where do you hide&lt;br /&gt;Let me guess&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my heart nothing changes&lt;br /&gt;You’re still here my angel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss your laugh in the boredom&lt;br /&gt;I miss your flame in my night&lt;br /&gt;It’s not fair&lt;br /&gt;My alter ego&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where are you&lt;br /&gt;I’ll search for you&lt;br /&gt;Where do you live&lt;br /&gt;I’ll know how to find you&lt;br /&gt;Where do you hide&lt;br /&gt;Let me guess&lt;br /&gt;You’re certainly at the Bay of the angels&lt;br /&gt;Certainly over there my angel…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where are you&lt;br /&gt;I’ll search for you&lt;br /&gt;Where do you live&lt;br /&gt;I’ll know how to find you&lt;br /&gt;Where are you&lt;br /&gt;I would like you to know&lt;br /&gt;Nothing changes in my heart&lt;br /&gt;You’re still here my angel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss a time in my life&lt;br /&gt;I miss your laugh, I’m bored&lt;br /&gt;I miss you, my friend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;ALTER EGO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il manque un temps à ma vie&lt;br /&gt;Il manque un temps, j'ai compris&lt;br /&gt;Il me manque toi&lt;br /&gt;Mon alter ego&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tu es parti mon ami&lt;br /&gt;Tu m'as laissé seul ici&lt;br /&gt;Mais partout tu me suis&lt;br /&gt;Mon alter ego&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Où tu es&lt;br /&gt;J'irai te chercher&lt;br /&gt;Où tu vis&lt;br /&gt;Je saurai te trouver&lt;br /&gt;Où tu te caches&lt;br /&gt;Laisse-moi deviner&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dans mon cœur rien ne change&lt;br /&gt;T'es toujours là, mon ange&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il manque ton rire à l'ennui&lt;br /&gt;Il manque ta flamme à ma nuit&lt;br /&gt;C'est pas du je&lt;br /&gt;Mon alter ego&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Où tu es&lt;br /&gt;J'irai te chercher&lt;br /&gt;Où tu vis&lt;br /&gt;Je saurai te trouver&lt;br /&gt;Où tu te caches&lt;br /&gt;Laisse-moi deviner&lt;br /&gt;T'es sûrement baie des anges&lt;br /&gt;Sûrement là-bas, mon ange&lt;br /&gt;Sûrement là-bas&lt;br /&gt;Sûrement là-bas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Où tu es&lt;br /&gt;J'irai te chercher&lt;br /&gt;Où tu vis&lt;br /&gt;Je saurai te trouver&lt;br /&gt;Où que tu sois&lt;br /&gt;Je voudrais que tu saches&lt;br /&gt;Dans mon cœur rien ne change&lt;br /&gt;T'es toujours là, mon ange&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il manque un temps à ma vie&lt;br /&gt;Il manque ton rire, je m'ennuie&lt;br /&gt;Il me manque toi, mon ami&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-2011283877858694941?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/2011283877858694941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2008/11/alter-ego.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2011283877858694941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2011283877858694941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2008/11/alter-ego.html' title='Jean-Louis Aubert - Alter Ego'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-485881020957534580</id><published>2008-11-12T10:49:00.004Z</published><updated>2008-11-12T11:45:18.721Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lone Justice'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='American'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rock'/><title type='text'>Lone Justice - Shelter</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qGc_dXC9h_c&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qGc_dXC9h_c&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well alright, you gave it all up for a dream&lt;br /&gt;Fate proved unkind, to lock the door and leave no key&lt;br /&gt;You're unsure,&lt;br /&gt;Well baby I'm scared too&lt;br /&gt;When the world crushes you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me be your shelter, shelter&lt;br /&gt;From the storm outside&lt;br /&gt;Let me be your shelter, shelter&lt;br /&gt;From the endless night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disillusion has an edge so sharp&lt;br /&gt;It tears at your soul and leaves a stain upon your heart&lt;br /&gt;I need you, to wash mine clean&lt;br /&gt;You've felt it too, and you need me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me be your shelter, shelter&lt;br /&gt;From the storm outside&lt;br /&gt;Let me be your shelter, shelter&lt;br /&gt;From the endless night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're struggle with darkness has left you blind&lt;br /&gt;I'll light the fire in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me be your shelter, shelter&lt;br /&gt;From the storm outside&lt;br /&gt;Let me be your shelter, shelter&lt;br /&gt;From the endless night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;D'accord tu as tout laissé tomber pour un rêve&lt;br /&gt;Le destin cruel a fermé la porte sans laisser de clef&lt;br /&gt;Tu es dans l'incertitude&lt;br /&gt;Mais tu sais, j'ai peur aussi&lt;br /&gt;Quand le monde t'écrases&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laisse-moi te protéger&lt;br /&gt;Quand la tempête fait rage&lt;br /&gt;Laisse-moi te protéger&lt;br /&gt;Contre la nuit infinie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La désillusion est si tranchante&lt;br /&gt;Qu'elle fait pleurer ton âme et laisse une marque sur ton cœur&lt;br /&gt;J'ai besoin de toi pour laver le mien&lt;br /&gt;Tu l'as senti aussi et tu as besoin de moi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laisse-moi te protéger&lt;br /&gt;Quand la tempête fait rage&lt;br /&gt;Laisse-moi te protéger&lt;br /&gt;Contre la nuit infinie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tu te bats dans l'obscurité qui t'a rendu aveugle&lt;br /&gt;J'apaiserai le feu de tes yeux&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laisse-moi te protéger&lt;br /&gt;Quand la tempête fait rage&lt;br /&gt;Laisse-moi te protéger&lt;br /&gt;Contre la nuit infinie&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-485881020957534580?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/485881020957534580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2008/11/lone-justice-shelter.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/485881020957534580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/485881020957534580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2008/11/lone-justice-shelter.html' title='Lone Justice - Shelter'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-5483614272619542646</id><published>2008-05-11T22:26:00.008+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T23:22:24.876+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Enrico Macias'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Algerian'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><title type='text'>Enrico Macias - I left my country  J'ai quitté mon pays</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="taille9"&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Jp3YhmQA5B8&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Jp3YhmQA5B8&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left my country&lt;br /&gt;I left my house&lt;br /&gt;My life, my sad life&lt;br /&gt;Is a drag for no reason&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left my sun&lt;br /&gt;I left my blue sea&lt;br /&gt;The memories are waking up&lt;br /&gt;Long after my last goodbye&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sun! Sun from my lost country&lt;br /&gt;From the white cities I loved&lt;br /&gt;From the girls I used to know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left a friend&lt;br /&gt;I can still see her eyes&lt;br /&gt;Her eyes filled with rain&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye rain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see her smile again&lt;br /&gt;So close to my face&lt;br /&gt;It made shine&lt;br /&gt;The nights of my village&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But from the edge of the boat&lt;br /&gt;That took me away from the quay&lt;br /&gt;A chain in the water&lt;br /&gt;Cracked like a whip&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked for a long time at&lt;br /&gt;Her avoiding eyes&lt;br /&gt;The sea drowned them&lt;br /&gt;In a tide/swell of regret.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right; font-weight: bold;"&gt;J'ai quitté mon pays&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;J'ai quitté mon pays&lt;br /&gt;J'ai quitté ma maison&lt;br /&gt;Ma vie, ma triste vie&lt;br /&gt;Se traîne sans raison&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai quitté mon soleil&lt;br /&gt;J'ai quitté ma mer bleue&lt;br /&gt;Leurs souvenirs se réveillent&lt;br /&gt;Bien après mon adieu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soleil! Soleil de mon pays perdu&lt;br /&gt;Des villes blanches que j'aimais&lt;br /&gt;Des filles que j'ai jadis connues&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai quitté une amie&lt;br /&gt;Je vois encore ses yeux&lt;br /&gt;Ses yeux mouillés de pluie&lt;br /&gt;De la pluie de l'adieu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je revois son sourire&lt;br /&gt;Si près de mon visage&lt;br /&gt;Il faisait resplendir&lt;br /&gt;Les soirs de mon village&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais du bord du bateau&lt;br /&gt;Qui m'éloignait du quai&lt;br /&gt;Une chaîne dans l'eau&lt;br /&gt;A claqué comme un fouet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai longtemps regardé&lt;br /&gt;Ses yeux qui fuyaient&lt;br /&gt;La mer les a noyés&lt;br /&gt;Dans le flot du regret. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;      &lt;script language="javascript"&gt; function vote(note) {   chaine='mode=simple&amp;idTitre=83431&amp;note='+note;  new Ajax.Request('/prog/vote.php', { parameters:chaine, method:'get', onComplete: function(o) { $('note').innerHTML = o.responseText; }  });   } &lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-5483614272619542646?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/5483614272619542646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2008/05/jai-quitt-mon-pays-enrico-macias-i-left.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/5483614272619542646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/5483614272619542646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2008/05/jai-quitt-mon-pays-enrico-macias-i-left.html' title='Enrico Macias - I left my country &lt;br&gt; J&apos;ai quitté mon pays'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-5608912909097622960</id><published>2008-05-03T14:54:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T00:32:53.618+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jane Birkin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Serge Gainsbourg'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='English'/><title type='text'>Jane Birkin - The Whateverist  L'Aquoiboniste</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4yo9Y0WRUqc&amp;hl=fr&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4yo9Y0WRUqc&amp;hl=fr&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’s a whateverist&lt;br /&gt;A sad joke maker&lt;br /&gt;Who always says whatever&lt;br /&gt;Whatever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A whateverist&lt;br /&gt;A humble guitarist&lt;br /&gt;Who never plays in tune&lt;br /&gt;Whatever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’s a whateverist&lt;br /&gt;A sad joke maker&lt;br /&gt;Who always says whatever&lt;br /&gt;Whatever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’s a whateverist&lt;br /&gt;A little too idealist&lt;br /&gt;Who keeps on saying in every way&lt;br /&gt;Whatever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’s a whateverist&lt;br /&gt;A sad joke maker&lt;br /&gt;Who always say whatever&lt;br /&gt;Whatever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A whateverist&lt;br /&gt;A funny indifferent&lt;br /&gt;Who says rightly or wrongly&lt;br /&gt;whatever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’s a whateverist&lt;br /&gt;A sad joke maker&lt;br /&gt;Who always say whatever&lt;br /&gt;Whatever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A whateverist&lt;br /&gt;Who doesn’t give a damn and who keeps on&lt;br /&gt;Saying ok but who really means&lt;br /&gt;whatever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’s a whateverist&lt;br /&gt;A sad jokes maker&lt;br /&gt;Who always say whatever&lt;br /&gt;Whatever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A whateverist&lt;br /&gt;Doesn’t need an optician&lt;br /&gt;To see the shit of the world&lt;br /&gt;Whatever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’s a whateverist&lt;br /&gt;A sad jokes maker&lt;br /&gt;Who always say whatever&lt;br /&gt;Whatever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A whateverist&lt;br /&gt;Who tells me with a sad look&lt;br /&gt;You, I love you, the others&lt;br /&gt;Are all stupid jerks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;L'Aquoiboniste&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C'est un aquoiboniste&lt;br /&gt;Un faiseur de plaisantristes&lt;br /&gt;Qui dit toujours à quoi bon&lt;br /&gt;A quoi bon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un aquoiboniste&lt;br /&gt;Un modeste guitariste&lt;br /&gt;Qui n'est jamais dans le ton&lt;br /&gt;A quoi bon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un aquoiboniste&lt;br /&gt;Un modeste guitariste&lt;br /&gt;Qui n'est jamais dans le ton&lt;br /&gt;A quoi bon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un aquoiboniste&lt;br /&gt;Un peu trop idéaliste&lt;br /&gt;Qui répèt' sur tous les tons&lt;br /&gt;A quoi bon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un aquoiboniste&lt;br /&gt;Un drôl' de je m'enfoutiste&lt;br /&gt;Qui dit à tort à raison&lt;br /&gt;A quoi bon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un aquoiboniste&lt;br /&gt;Qui s'fout de tout et persiste&lt;br /&gt;A dire j'veux bien mais au fond&lt;br /&gt;A quoi bon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un aquoiboniste&lt;br /&gt;Qu'a pas besoin d'oculiste&lt;br /&gt;Pour voir la merde du monde&lt;br /&gt;A quoi bon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un aquoiboniste&lt;br /&gt;Qui me dit le regard triste&lt;br /&gt;Toi je t'aime, les autres ce sont&lt;br /&gt;Tous des cons&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-5608912909097622960?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/5608912909097622960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2008/05/laquoiboniste-whateverist.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/5608912909097622960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/5608912909097622960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2008/05/laquoiboniste-whateverist.html' title='Jane Birkin - The Whateverist &lt;br&gt; L&apos;Aquoiboniste'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-6270451185959674687</id><published>2008-03-02T10:15:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-05-11T22:28:45.754+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Henri Salvador'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pink Martini'/><title type='text'>Syracuse - Pink martini</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UEKuSKKy0fI&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/UEKuSKKy0fI&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would so love to see Syracuse&lt;br /&gt;The Easter Island and the Kairouan&lt;br /&gt;And the big birds who have fun&lt;br /&gt;Sliding their wing under the wind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To See the gardens of Babylon&lt;br /&gt;And the Grand Lama’s palace&lt;br /&gt;Dream about Verone’s lovers&lt;br /&gt;At the top of the Mt. Fuji&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To see the country of the quiet morning&lt;br /&gt;To go fishing the cormoran&lt;br /&gt;And get drunk off palm wine&lt;br /&gt;Listening to the singing wind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before my youth gets spent&lt;br /&gt;And my springs have past&lt;br /&gt;I would so love to see Syracuse&lt;br /&gt;To remember it in Paris&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Syracuse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'aimerais tant voir Syracuse&lt;br /&gt;L'ile de Pâques et Kairouan&lt;br /&gt;Et les grands oiseaux qui s'amusent&lt;br /&gt;A glisser l'aile sous le vent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voir les jardins de Babylone&lt;br /&gt;Et le palais du Grand Lama&lt;br /&gt;Rêver des amants de Vérone&lt;br /&gt;Au sommet du Fuji Yama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voir le pays du matin calme&lt;br /&gt;Aller pêcher le cormoran&lt;br /&gt;Et m'enivrer de vin de palme&lt;br /&gt;En écoutant chanter le vent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Avant que ma jeunesse s'use&lt;br /&gt;Et que mes printemps soient partis&lt;br /&gt;J'aimerais tant voir Syracuse&lt;br /&gt;Pour m'en souvenir a Paris&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-6270451185959674687?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/6270451185959674687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2008/03/syracuse-pink-martini.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/6270451185959674687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/6270451185959674687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2008/03/syracuse-pink-martini.html' title='Syracuse - Pink martini'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-8097990188495600682</id><published>2008-02-29T14:16:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-12-15T11:24:23.960Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Carla Bruni'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Carla Bruni - Somebody Told MeQuelqu'un m'a dit</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/fMUedRUJ_HA&amp;amp;hl=pl&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/fMUedRUJ_HA&amp;amp;hl=pl&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been told that our lives aren't worth that much,&lt;br /&gt;They pass in an instant like the roses fade.&lt;br /&gt;I've been told that the time that's gliding by is a bastard&lt;br /&gt;That with our grief it makes its coats&lt;br /&gt;However someone told me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That you were still loving me,&lt;br /&gt;There is someone who told me that you were still loving me&lt;br /&gt;Would it be still possible then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been told that the fate jeers up well at us&lt;br /&gt;That it doesn't give us anything and it promises us everything&lt;br /&gt;It seems hapiness is at our fingertips&lt;br /&gt;Thus we extend our hand and we are back to crazyness&lt;br /&gt;However somebody told me...&lt;br /&gt;But who told me that you were still loving me?&lt;br /&gt;I don't remember well, it was late in the night,&lt;br /&gt;I can still hear the voice, but I can't see the features&lt;br /&gt;"He loves you, it's a secret, don't tell him that I told you"&lt;br /&gt;You see someone told me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That you were still loving with me, but have I been told so...&lt;br /&gt;That you were still loving with me, would it be possible then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been told that our lives aren't worth that much,&lt;br /&gt;They pass in an instant like fade the roses.&lt;br /&gt;I've been told that the time that's gliding by is a bastard&lt;br /&gt;That with our grief it makes its coats&lt;br /&gt;However somebody told me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;small&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Quelqu'un m'a dit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On me dit que nos vies ne valent pas grand chose,&lt;br /&gt;Elles passent en un instant comme fanent les roses.&lt;br /&gt;On me dit que le temps qui glisse est un salaud&lt;br /&gt;Que de nos chagrins il s'en fait des manteaux&lt;br /&gt;Pourtant quelqu'un m'a dit...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{&lt;u&gt;Refrain:&lt;/u&gt;}&lt;br /&gt;Que tu m'aimais encore,&lt;br /&gt;C'est quelqu'un qui m'a dit que tu m'aimais encore.&lt;br /&gt;Serais ce possible alors ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On me dit que le destin se moque bien de nous&lt;br /&gt;Qu'il ne nous donne rien et qu'il nous promet tout&lt;br /&gt;Parait qu'le bonheur est à portée de main,&lt;br /&gt;Alors on tend la main et on se retrouve fou&lt;br /&gt;Pourtant quelqu'un m'a dit ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{au refrain}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais qui est ce qui m'a dit que toujours tu m'aimais?&lt;br /&gt;Je ne me souviens plus c'était tard dans la nuit,&lt;br /&gt;J'entend encore la voix, mais je ne vois plus les traits&lt;br /&gt;"Il vous aime, c'est secret, lui dites pas que j'vous l'ai dit"&lt;br /&gt;Tu vois quelqu'un m'a dit...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que tu m'aimais encore, me l'a t'on vraiment dit...&lt;br /&gt;Que tu m'aimais encore, serais ce possible alors ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On me dit que nos vies ne valent pas grand chose,&lt;br /&gt;Elles passent en un instant comme fanent les roses&lt;br /&gt;On me dit que le temps qui glisse est un salaud&lt;br /&gt;Que de nos tristesses il s'en fait des manteaux,&lt;br /&gt;Pourtant quelqu'un m'a dit que...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{au refrain}&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/small&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-8097990188495600682?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/8097990188495600682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2008/02/carla-bruni-somebody-told-me-quelquun.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/8097990188495600682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/8097990188495600682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2008/02/carla-bruni-somebody-told-me-quelquun.html' title='Carla Bruni - Somebody Told Me&lt;br&gt;Quelqu&apos;un m&apos;a dit'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-8189717120276358940</id><published>2008-02-29T12:56:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-12-15T11:26:41.804Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Renan Luce'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Renan Luce - The Letter La Lettre</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/e-aFTIgRwyc&amp;hl=pl&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/e-aFTIgRwyc&amp;hl=pl&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I received a letter&lt;br /&gt;Maybe one month ago&lt;br /&gt;It was a mistake&lt;br /&gt;A mistake by the postman&lt;br /&gt;Sprayed  with perfume&lt;br /&gt;Red lipstick&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I shouldn't have&lt;br /&gt;opened this letter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I am the kind of man&lt;br /&gt;Who likes these stakes&lt;br /&gt;I don't care if she calls me&lt;br /&gt;Alphonse or Fred it is as she wants&lt;br /&gt;As she wants&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty daisies&lt;br /&gt;At the top of her "i"&lt;br /&gt;Curves written&lt;br /&gt;Like they do in the abbayes&lt;br /&gt;Some misspellings&lt;br /&gt;A light dyslexia&lt;br /&gt;And by way of signature&lt;br /&gt;A small and sexy blond girl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And me, I am the kind of man&lt;br /&gt;who likes these stakes&lt;br /&gt;I don't like nuns&lt;br /&gt;And I felt in love&lt;br /&gt;In love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's writing that on Sunday&lt;br /&gt;She will be on the cliff&lt;br /&gt;Where I took her by the hips&lt;br /&gt;And if hypothetically&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't be tactful enough&lt;br /&gt;To assume my lovemaking&lt;br /&gt;She will choose the impact&lt;br /&gt;30 meters lower&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I am the kind of man&lt;br /&gt;Who likes these stakes&lt;br /&gt;I don't want her to knock herself out&lt;br /&gt;Because I felt in love with her&lt;br /&gt;in love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to the date stamp&lt;br /&gt;From a city by the Channel&lt;br /&gt;I was at the out-post&lt;br /&gt;In the Sunday morning&lt;br /&gt;The place was deserted&lt;br /&gt;I will have to be patient&lt;br /&gt;Suicidal blonds&lt;br /&gt;Are not numerous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I am the kind of man&lt;br /&gt;Who likes these stakes&lt;br /&gt;I want to beat Newton&lt;br /&gt;Because I felt in love with her&lt;br /&gt;In love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was hanging over the Channel&lt;br /&gt;When I recognized her&lt;br /&gt;I took by the sleeve&lt;br /&gt;My naive little girl&lt;br /&gt;Who wasn't that naive&lt;br /&gt;According to the profile&lt;br /&gt;That a little inhabitant&lt;br /&gt;Was making under her belly button&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I am the kind of man&lt;br /&gt;who likes these stakes&lt;br /&gt;He can give to me&lt;br /&gt;(Papa)... If he wants it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;La Lettre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J’ai reçu une lettre&lt;br /&gt;Il y a un mois peut être&lt;br /&gt;Arrivée par erreur&lt;br /&gt;Maladresse de facteur&lt;br /&gt;Aspergée de parfum&lt;br /&gt;Rouge à lèvre carmin&lt;br /&gt;J’aurais dû cette lettre&lt;br /&gt;Ne pas l'ouvrir peut être&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais moi je suis un homme&lt;br /&gt;Qui aime bien ce genre d'enjeu&lt;br /&gt;Je veux bien qu'elle me nomme&lt;br /&gt;Alphonse ou Fred c'est comme elle veut&lt;br /&gt;C’est comme elle veut&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Des jolies marguerites&lt;br /&gt;Sur le haut de ses "i"&lt;br /&gt;Des courbes manuscrites&lt;br /&gt;Comme dans les abbayes&lt;br /&gt;Quelques fautes d'orthographes&lt;br /&gt;Une légère dyslexie&lt;br /&gt;Et en guise de paraphe&lt;br /&gt;La petite blonde sexy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et moi je suis un homme&lt;br /&gt;Qui aime bien ce genre de jeu&lt;br /&gt;Je n'aime pas les nones&lt;br /&gt;Et j'en suis tombé amoureux&lt;br /&gt;Amoureux&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elle écrit que dimanche&lt;br /&gt;Elle s'ra sur la falaise&lt;br /&gt;Où je l'ai prise par les hanches&lt;br /&gt;Et que dans l'hypothèse&lt;br /&gt;Où je n’aurais pas le tact&lt;br /&gt;D’assumer mes ébats&lt;br /&gt;Elle choisira l’impact&lt;br /&gt;30 mètres plus bas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et moi je suis un homme&lt;br /&gt;Qui aime bien ce genre d’enjeu&lt;br /&gt;Je ne veux pas qu’elle s’assomme&lt;br /&gt;Car j’en suis tombé amoureux&lt;br /&gt;Amoureux&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grâce au cachet de la poste&lt;br /&gt;D’une ville sur la manche&lt;br /&gt;J’étais à l’avant poste&lt;br /&gt;Au matin du dimanche&lt;br /&gt;L’endroit était desert&lt;br /&gt;Il faudra être patient&lt;br /&gt;Des blondes suicidaires&lt;br /&gt;Il n’y en a pas 100&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et moi je suis un homme&lt;br /&gt;Qui aime bien ce genre d’enjeu&lt;br /&gt;Je veux battre Newton&lt;br /&gt;Car j’en suis tombé amoureux&lt;br /&gt;Amoureux&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elle surplombait la Manche&lt;br /&gt;Quand je l’ai reconnue&lt;br /&gt;J’ai saisir par la manche&lt;br /&gt;Ma petite ingénue&lt;br /&gt;Qui ne l’était pas tant&lt;br /&gt;Au regard du profil&lt;br /&gt;Qu’un petit habitant&lt;br /&gt;Lui faisait sous le nombril&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et moi je suis un homme&lt;br /&gt;Qui aime bien ce genre d’enjeu&lt;br /&gt;Je veux bien qu’il me donne&lt;br /&gt;(Papa)… S’il le veut&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-8189717120276358940?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/8189717120276358940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2008/02/renan-luce-letter-la-lettre.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/8189717120276358940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/8189717120276358940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2008/02/renan-luce-letter-la-lettre.html' title='Renan Luce - The Letter&lt;br&gt; La Lettre'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-1098395245331728546</id><published>2008-01-27T20:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-27T20:48:43.856Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mylène Farmer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Mylène Farmer - Before the shadowAvant que l'ombre</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pEh_lpl9ouY&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pEh_lpl9ouY&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harshness of the sounds&lt;br /&gt;Storm of the winds&lt;br /&gt;Memory…&lt;br /&gt;Forgetting me, running away from me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus! I’m scared&lt;br /&gt;Jesus! Of the hour…&lt;br /&gt;That brings me back&lt;br /&gt;To fiery dreams&lt;br /&gt;To forgotten worlds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus! I’m scared&lt;br /&gt;Of pain&lt;br /&gt;In the sleepless nights&lt;br /&gt;Unfinished memory&lt;br /&gt;That doesn’t know… where it’s being born&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before the shadow, I know&lt;br /&gt;Crashes down to my feet&lt;br /&gt;To see the other side&lt;br /&gt;I know that, I know that… I loved&lt;br /&gt;Before the troubled shadow&lt;br /&gt;Crashes down to my feet&lt;br /&gt;To see the other side&lt;br /&gt;I know I love, I know I have…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus ! I’m scared&lt;br /&gt;Oh ! Jesus ! Lord !&lt;br /&gt;Am I guilty?&lt;br /&gt;Me who used to think my soul was&lt;br /&gt;An impenetrable sanctuary&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus ! I’m scared&lt;br /&gt;Jesus! I’m dying&lt;br /&gt;From burning my fingerprint&lt;br /&gt;But let the past become again the past&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Âpreté des sons&lt;br /&gt;Tourmente des vents&lt;br /&gt;Mémoire ...&lt;br /&gt;Qui m'oublie, qui me fuit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jésus ! J'ai peur&lt;br /&gt;Jésus ! De l'heure...&lt;br /&gt;Qui me ramène&lt;br /&gt;A des songes emportés,&lt;br /&gt;A des mondes oubliés, oh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jésus ! J'ai peur&lt;br /&gt;De la douleur...&lt;br /&gt;Des nuits de veille&lt;br /&gt;Mémoire inachevée,&lt;br /&gt;Qui ne sait... où elle naît&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Avant que l'ombre, je sais&lt;br /&gt;Ne s'abatte à mes pieds&lt;br /&gt;Pour voir l'autre coté&lt;br /&gt;Je sais que... je sais que... j'ai aimé&lt;br /&gt;Avant que l'ombre... gênée&lt;br /&gt;Ne s'abatte à mes pieds&lt;br /&gt;Pour voir l'autre coté&lt;br /&gt;Je sais que j'aime, je sais que j'ai...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jésus ! J'ai peur&lt;br /&gt;Oh ! Jésus ! Seigneur !&lt;br /&gt;Suis-je coupable ?&lt;br /&gt;Moi qui croyais mon âme&lt;br /&gt;Sanctuaire impénétrable&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jésus ! J'ai peur&lt;br /&gt;Jésus ! Je meurs&lt;br /&gt;De brûler l'empreinte&lt;br /&gt;Mais laisser le passé redevenir le passé&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-1098395245331728546?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/1098395245331728546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2008/01/mylne-farmer-before-shadow-avant-que.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1098395245331728546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1098395245331728546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2008/01/mylne-farmer-before-shadow-avant-que.html' title='Mylène Farmer - Before the shadow&lt;br&gt;Avant que l&apos;ombre'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-2361721802643107599</id><published>2007-09-21T12:55:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T16:47:15.807+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emilie Simon'/><title type='text'>Emilie Simon - It's raining Il pleut</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/dLS2JH0pnz4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/dLS2JH0pnz4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's raining&lt;br /&gt;It's unfortunate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's been raining since this morning&lt;/div&gt;He wants&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;To take over my being&lt;/div&gt;Without looking dishonest&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's raining&lt;/div&gt;Into those rain drops&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My doubts are running away&lt;/div&gt;I'm not bored any more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's raining&lt;/div&gt;But it's not the rain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That fills my nights&lt;/div&gt;It's raining&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's unfortunate&lt;br /&gt;It's been raining since this morning&lt;/div&gt;He wants&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;To make me queen&lt;/div&gt;Am I worth it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's raining&lt;/div&gt;Into those rain drops&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My doubts are running away&lt;/div&gt;I'm not bored any more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's raining&lt;br /&gt;But it's not the rain&lt;br /&gt;That fills my nights&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Il pleut&lt;br /&gt;C'est malheureux&lt;br /&gt;Il pleut depuis ce matin&lt;br /&gt;Il veut&lt;br /&gt;S'emparer de mon être&lt;br /&gt;Sans paraître malhonnête&lt;br /&gt;Il pleut&lt;br /&gt;Dans ces gouttes de pluie&lt;br /&gt;Mes doutes s'enfuient&lt;br /&gt;Je ne m'ennuie plus&lt;br /&gt;Il pleut&lt;br /&gt;Mais ce n'est pas la pluie&lt;br /&gt;Qui occupe mes nuits&lt;br /&gt;Il pleut&lt;br /&gt;C'est malheureux&lt;br /&gt;Il pleut depuis ce matin&lt;br /&gt;Il veut&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Faire de moi une reine&lt;br /&gt;Est-ce que j'en vaux la peine ?&lt;br /&gt;Il pleut&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Dans ces gouttes de pluie&lt;br /&gt;Mes doutes s'enfuient&lt;br /&gt;Je ne m'ennuie plus&lt;br /&gt;Il pleut&lt;br /&gt;Mais ce n'est pas la pluie&lt;br /&gt;Qui occupe mes nuits&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-2361721802643107599?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/2361721802643107599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/09/emilie-simon-its-raining-il-pleut.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2361721802643107599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2361721802643107599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/09/emilie-simon-its-raining-il-pleut.html' title='Emilie Simon - It&apos;s raining&lt;br&gt; Il pleut'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-1804127787398012819</id><published>2007-09-18T03:41:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T11:31:44.662Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sanseverino'/><title type='text'>Sanseverino - Frida</title><content type='html'>Do you think that in the offices deserted by the politicians&lt;br /&gt;Their secretaries are singing Bruant's songs while waiting for them?&lt;br /&gt;Are they afraid of getting trouble in the event they come back to work?&lt;br /&gt;Do you think it's easy to be in charge of a family?&lt;br /&gt;Find daddy's boy housing, an employment in the government&lt;br /&gt;There is no time for that when you fall asleep on the benches of the senate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately there is Frida, the girl from the North of Brel's songs&lt;br /&gt;Did she really exist or is that too a myth&lt;br /&gt;There are questions I'm asking myself...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you think that toreros do just that like a job&lt;br /&gt;Under the pretext it is outside because they live close to the sea&lt;br /&gt;And their costume is it because their mother sew up it?&lt;br /&gt;I can easily find summer jobs, transportation of funds, the pay is bad&lt;br /&gt;As long as everything is alright it is ok but this is a good job to be well killed&lt;br /&gt;And what about you? Do you know countries in which to bored stiff to save your life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know the difference between vegetables and citrus fruit?&lt;br /&gt;Is the tomato a fruit, what is the singular of "spaghetti"?&lt;br /&gt;Is the green part of the leek at the bottom or at the top?&lt;br /&gt;One more question, Daniel Auteuil and Piccoli&lt;br /&gt;When they get in 3 months enough money for 10 years&lt;br /&gt;Are they going to give everything to the tax services as do all the losers of the lotto?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Frida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Est-ce que tu crois que dans les bureaux que les politiciens désertent&lt;br /&gt;Leurs secrétaires en attendant chantent des chansons de Bruant ?&lt;br /&gt;Ont-elles peur de se faire disputer si des fois ils venaient travailler ?&lt;br /&gt;Est-ce que tu crois qu'il est facile de s'occuper de sa famille ?&lt;br /&gt;Trouver à fifils un logement, un emploi au gouvernement&lt;br /&gt;On n'a pas le temps de s'occuper de ça quand on s'endort sur les Bancs du Sénat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heureusement qu'il y a Frida, la fille du Nord des chansons de Brel&lt;br /&gt;Est-ce qu'elle a existé vraiment ou ça aussi c'est du boniment ?&lt;br /&gt;Il y a des questions que je me pose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Est-ce que tu crois que les toreros font juste ça comme un boulot&lt;br /&gt;Sous prétexte que c'est en plein air comme ils habitent pas loin de la mer&lt;br /&gt;Et que sur leur costume à la con c'est leur mère qui recoud les boutons ?&lt;br /&gt;Je t'en trouverais moi des jobs d'été, transport de fond, c'est mal payé&lt;br /&gt;Tant qu'il ne se passe rien tout va très bien mais c'est un boulot qui tue bien&lt;br /&gt;En connais-tu toi des pays où t'emmerder te sauve la vie ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Connais-tu la différence entre un légume et un agrume ?&lt;br /&gt;La tomate est-elle un fruit, le singulier de spaghetti ?&lt;br /&gt;Le vert du poireau est-il en bas, est-il en haut ?&lt;br /&gt;Une question et c'est fini, Daniel Auteuil et Piccoli&lt;br /&gt;Quand en trois mois ils ont gagné des biftons pour dix années&lt;br /&gt;Vont-ils tout donner aux impôts comme tous les perdants du Loto ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-1804127787398012819?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/1804127787398012819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/09/sanseverino-frida.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1804127787398012819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1804127787398012819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/09/sanseverino-frida.html' title='Sanseverino - Frida'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-8128561499778781484</id><published>2007-07-26T16:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-26T06:19:36.869+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Riccardo Cocciante'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French-Italian'/><title type='text'>Riccardo Cocciante - SunburnLe coup de soleil</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yZxRXYo1i4I"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yZxRXYo1i4I" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'be been burnt by the sun&lt;br /&gt;by love, by I love you.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how, I need to remember.&lt;br /&gt;If it's a dream you are really beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;I don't sleep anymore. I'm travelling&lt;br /&gt;on boats that are cast away.&lt;br /&gt;I see you naked on satin&lt;br /&gt;And it prevents me from sleepling. Come tomorow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you're not here, and if I'm dreaming it is too bad.&lt;br /&gt;When you leave, I don't sleep anymore.&lt;br /&gt;But you're not here, and you know I want to go there,&lt;br /&gt;The opposite window, and visit your paradise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put your pictures in my songs,&lt;br /&gt;And sailboats in my house.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to shove off, I don't want it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;I live upside down, I don't like my street anymore.&lt;br /&gt;I was 100 years old, I don't recognize myself.&lt;br /&gt;I don't like people since I saw you.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to dream anymore. I would like you to come&lt;br /&gt;Make me fly, make me I love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you're not here, and if I dream it's too bad.&lt;br /&gt;When you leave, I don't sleep anymore.&lt;br /&gt;But you're not here, and you know I want to go there,&lt;br /&gt;The opposite window, and visit your paradise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it. It's sure. I have to decide.&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to escape, and I'm falling.&lt;br /&gt;I know you're waiting for me near the fountain:&lt;br /&gt;I saw you get down from a rainbow.&lt;br /&gt;I take the plunge in the summer rains.&lt;br /&gt;I sail in my area.&lt;br /&gt;It's a nice day, we can paddle.&lt;br /&gt;The sea is calm. We can shove off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you're not here, and if I dream it's too bad.&lt;br /&gt;When you leave, I don't sleep anymore.&lt;br /&gt;But you're not here, and you know I want to go there,&lt;br /&gt;The opposite window, and visit your paradise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you're not here, no...&lt;br /&gt;But you're not here, and if I dream, it is too bad.&lt;br /&gt;When you leave, I don't sleep anymore at night...&lt;br /&gt;But you're not here...&lt;br /&gt;But you're not here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;J'ai attrapé un coup de soleil,&lt;br /&gt;Un coup d'amour, un coup d' je t'aime.&lt;br /&gt;J' sais pas comment, il faut qu' j' me rappelle.&lt;br /&gt;Si c'est un rêve, t'es super belle.&lt;br /&gt;J' dors plus la nuit. J' fais des voyages&lt;br /&gt;Sur des bateaux qui font naugrage.&lt;br /&gt;J' te vois toute nue sur du satin&lt;br /&gt;Et j'en dors plus. Viens m' voir demain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais tu n'es pas là, et si je rêve, tant pis.&lt;br /&gt;Quand tu t'en vas, j' dors plus la nuit&lt;br /&gt;Mais tu n'es pas là, et tu sais, j'ai envie d'aller là-bas,&lt;br /&gt;La fenêtre en face, et d' visiter ton paradis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J' mets tes photos dans mes chansons&lt;br /&gt;Et des voiliers dans ma maison.&lt;br /&gt;J' voulais m' tirer, mais j' me tire plus.&lt;br /&gt;J' vis à l'envers, j'aime plus ma rue.&lt;br /&gt;J'avais cent ans, j' me reconnais plus.&lt;br /&gt;J'aime plus les gens depuis qu' j' t'ai vue.&lt;br /&gt;J' veux plus rêver. J' voudrais qu' tu viennes&lt;br /&gt;Me faire voler, me faire je t'aime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais tu n'es pas là, et si je rêve, tant pis.&lt;br /&gt;Quand tu t'en vas, j' dors plus la nuit&lt;br /&gt;Mais tu n'es pas là, et tu sais, j'ai envie d'aller là-bas,&lt;br /&gt;La fenêtre en face, et d' visiter ton paradis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ca y est. C'est sûr. Faut qu' j' me décide.&lt;br /&gt;J' vais faire le mur et j' tombe dans l' vide.&lt;br /&gt;J' sais qu' tu m'attends près d' la fontaine :&lt;br /&gt;J' t'ai vue descendre d'un arc-en-ciel.&lt;br /&gt;J' me jette à l'eau des pluies d'été.&lt;br /&gt;J' fais du bateau dans mon quartier.&lt;br /&gt;Il fait très beau, on peut ramer.&lt;br /&gt;La mer est calme. On peut s' tirer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais tu n'es pas là, et si je rêve, tant pis.&lt;br /&gt;Quand tu t'en vas, j' dors plus la nuit&lt;br /&gt;Mais tu n'es pas là, et tu sais, j'ai envie d'aller là-bas,&lt;br /&gt;La fenêtre en face, et d' visiter ton paradis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais tu n'es pas là, non...&lt;br /&gt;Mais tu n'es pas là, et si je rêve, tant pis.&lt;br /&gt;Quand tu t'en vas, j' dors plus la nuit...&lt;br /&gt;Mais tu n'es pas là...&lt;br /&gt;Mais tu n'es pas là... non, non...&lt;br /&gt;J'ai attrapé un coup de soleil,&lt;br /&gt;Un coup d'amour, un coup d' je t'aime.&lt;br /&gt;J'sais pas comment, il faut qu' j' me rappelle.&lt;br /&gt;Et si je rêve, tant pis.&lt;br /&gt;J'ai attrapé un coup de soleil,&lt;br /&gt;Un coup d'amour, un coup d' je t'aime.&lt;br /&gt;Un coup d'amour, un coup d' je t'aime.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-8128561499778781484?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/8128561499778781484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/07/riccardo-cocciante-sunburn-le-coup-de.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/8128561499778781484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/8128561499778781484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/07/riccardo-cocciante-sunburn-le-coup-de.html' title='Riccardo Cocciante - Sunburn&lt;br&gt;Le coup de soleil'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-2310358053621815848</id><published>2007-07-22T23:31:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-19T20:18:37.281+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Anaïs'/><title type='text'>Anaïs - My sweetheart My love Mon coeur Mon amour</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/l4OinHjZWWw"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/l4OinHjZWWw" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sweetheart, my love, my love, my sweetheart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's dripping love,&lt;br /&gt;It's beautiful but unbearable.&lt;br /&gt;It's a heavy pudding&lt;br /&gt;Made of sweet nothings in every sentence:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Your pie is so good my love"&lt;br /&gt;"Sweetheart, give me the salad"&lt;br /&gt;And they are fondling,&lt;br /&gt;They are spoonfeeding each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This mix of feelings&lt;br /&gt;Flavoured with aromatic herbs&lt;br /&gt;Makes me gently smile&lt;br /&gt;And eventually makes me throw up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate couples who remind me that I am alone!&lt;br /&gt;I abhor couples, I simply hate them!&lt;br /&gt;My sweetheart, my love, my love, my sweetheart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a thick coulis&lt;br /&gt;That knocked me flat on my ass&lt;br /&gt;So much sentimentality&lt;br /&gt;Iced with French pastry cream:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hiya, what are you doing sweetheart?"&lt;br /&gt;"The same thing as half an hour ago..."&lt;br /&gt;"I called you five minutes ago  my angel, but you didn't answer...&lt;br /&gt;So I called again... It was the 12th time in the day...&lt;br /&gt;Screwing all my cell phone minutes&lt;br /&gt;But what are you doing my beloved?&lt;br /&gt;Yes I know, we'll meet after...&lt;br /&gt;No you hang up... No it's you...&lt;br /&gt;No it's you... It's you... Ok. I call you back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate couples who call them back when I am alone!&lt;br /&gt;I abhor couples, I simply hate them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sweetheart, my love, my love, my sweetheart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Mon coeur, mon amour, mon amour, mon coeur&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ca dégouline d'amour,&lt;br /&gt;C'est beau mais c'est insupportable.&lt;br /&gt;C'est un pudding bien lourd&lt;br /&gt;De mots doux à chaque phrases :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Elle est bonne ta quiche, amour"&lt;br /&gt;"Mon coeur, passe moi la salade"&lt;br /&gt;Et ça se fait des mamours,&lt;br /&gt;Se donne la becquée à table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ce mélange de sentiments&lt;br /&gt;Aromatisé aux fines herbes&lt;br /&gt;Me fait sourire gentiment&lt;br /&gt;Et finalement me donne la gerbe !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je hais les couples qui me rappellent que je suis seule !&lt;br /&gt;Je déteste les couples, je les hais tout court !&lt;br /&gt;Mon coeur, mon amour, mon amour, mon coeur&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C'est un épais coulis&lt;br /&gt;Ca me laisse le cul par terre&lt;br /&gt;Autant de mièvrerie&lt;br /&gt;Nappée de crème pâtissière&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Coucou qu'est ce que tu fais mon coeur ?"&lt;br /&gt;"La même chose qu'y a une demie heure... "&lt;br /&gt;"J' t'ai appelé y a cinq minutes mon ange mais ça répondait pas...&lt;br /&gt;Alors j' t'ai rappelé... pour la douzième fois de la journée...&lt;br /&gt;En niquant tout mon forfait...&lt;br /&gt;Mais qu'est ce que tu fais mon adoré ?&lt;br /&gt;Ouais je sais on se voit après...&lt;br /&gt;Non c'est toi qui raccroches... Non c'est toi...&lt;br /&gt;Non c'est toi qui raccroches... Non c'est toi...&lt;br /&gt;Non c'est toi... C'est toi ... Bon d'accord je te rappelle... "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je hais les couples qui se rappellent quand je suis seule !&lt;br /&gt;Je déteste les couples, je les hais tout court !&lt;br /&gt;Mon coeur, mon amour, mon amour, mon coeur&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-2310358053621815848?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/2310358053621815848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/07/anas-my-sweetheart-my-love-mon-coeur.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2310358053621815848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2310358053621815848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/07/anas-my-sweetheart-my-love-mon-coeur.html' title='Anaïs - My sweetheart My love &lt;br&gt;Mon coeur Mon amour'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-1564752797963660403</id><published>2007-07-10T13:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-11T00:17:40.608+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Henri Salvador'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Henri Salvador - Look for the rose Cherche la rose</title><content type='html'>In the sand of the desert&lt;br /&gt;On the dune of the sea&lt;br /&gt;What a shame if you lose yourself,&lt;br /&gt;Look for the rose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the windows of the jails&lt;br /&gt;Where forgiveness is a dream&lt;br /&gt;Where a song is dying&lt;br /&gt;Look for the rose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Under the moss, the nettles&lt;br /&gt;In the puddles of rain&lt;br /&gt;On the forgotten grave&lt;br /&gt;Look for the rose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where the suburbs are sad&lt;br /&gt;At the blind man's home, at the deaf's,&lt;br /&gt;Where the night dreams about the day&lt;br /&gt;Look for the rose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deep into your bruised heart&lt;br /&gt;Where the source is drying up&lt;br /&gt;Where a scream is coming out of the shadow&lt;br /&gt;Look for the rose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And pounding the pavement&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you didn't find it&lt;br /&gt;You would have dreamed it at least&lt;br /&gt;Look for the rose&lt;br /&gt;The rose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Dans le sable du désert&lt;br /&gt;Sur les dunes de la mer&lt;br /&gt;Et tant pis si tu te perds,&lt;br /&gt;Cherche la rose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aux lucarnes des prisons&lt;br /&gt;Où l'on rêve de pardon&lt;br /&gt;Où se meurt une chanson&lt;br /&gt;Cherche la rose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sous les mousses, les orties&lt;br /&gt;Dans les flaques de la pluie&lt;br /&gt;Sur les tombes qu'on oublie&lt;br /&gt;Cherche la rose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Où s'attristent les faubourgs&lt;br /&gt;Chez l'aveugle, chez le sourd&lt;br /&gt;Où la nuit rêve du jour&lt;br /&gt;Cherche la rose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Au fond de ton cœur meurtri&lt;br /&gt;Où la source se tarit&lt;br /&gt;Où dans l'ombre monte un cri&lt;br /&gt;Cherche la rose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et battant tous les pavés&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si tu n' l'a point trouvée&lt;br /&gt;Tu l'auras au moins rêvée&lt;br /&gt;Cherche la rose&lt;br /&gt;Cherche la rose&lt;br /&gt;La rose&lt;br /&gt;La rose&lt;br /&gt;La rose&lt;br /&gt;La rose ... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-1564752797963660403?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/1564752797963660403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/07/henri-salvador-look-for-rose-cherche-la.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1564752797963660403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1564752797963660403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/07/henri-salvador-look-for-rose-cherche-la.html' title='Henri Salvador - Look for the rose &lt;br&gt;Cherche la rose'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-1902939407472535823</id><published>2007-07-09T03:21:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T11:34:26.771Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reggae'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Côte d&apos;Ivoire'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tiken Jah Fakoly'/><title type='text'>Tiken Jah Fakoly - Nothing surprises me anymore Plus rien ne m'étonne</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5QyMpY1ptLw&amp;hl=pl&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5QyMpY1ptLw&amp;hl=pl&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have shared the world&lt;br /&gt;Nothing surprises me anymore&lt;br /&gt;Nothing surprises me anymore&lt;br /&gt;Nothing surprises me anymore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you give me Chechnya&lt;br /&gt;Me, I give you Armenia&lt;br /&gt;If you give me Afghanistan&lt;br /&gt;Me, I give you Pakistan&lt;br /&gt;If you don't leave Haïti&lt;br /&gt;Me, I take you with me for Bangui&lt;br /&gt;If you help me to bomb Iraq&lt;br /&gt;Me I will fix up Kurdistan for you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you give me the uranium&lt;br /&gt;Me I give you the aluminum,&lt;br /&gt;If you give me your beds (mineral deposit field non specified)&lt;br /&gt;Me I help you get rid of Taliban,&lt;br /&gt;If you give me plenty of wheat&lt;br /&gt;Me I make war by your side,&lt;br /&gt;If you let me extract your gold&lt;br /&gt;Me I help you show the general the door&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have shared Africa without asking us&lt;br /&gt;They are surprised by our disunity&lt;br /&gt;A part of the Mandingue empire is now at the Wolofs&lt;br /&gt;A part of the Mossi empire is now in Ghana&lt;br /&gt;A part of the Soussou empire is now in the Mangingue empire&lt;br /&gt;A part of the Mandingue empire is now at the Mossis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have shared Africa without asking us&lt;br /&gt;Without asking us, ouch, without give us notice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;{Refrain:}{x2}&lt;br /&gt;Ils ont partagé le monde&lt;br /&gt;Plus rien ne m'étonne&lt;br /&gt;Plus rien ne m'étonne&lt;br /&gt;Plus rien ne m'étonne&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si tu me laisses la Tchétchénie&lt;br /&gt;Moi je te laisse l'Arménie,&lt;br /&gt;Si tu me laisses l'Afghanistan&lt;br /&gt;Moi je te laisse le Pakistan,&lt;br /&gt;Si tu ne quittes pas Haïti&lt;br /&gt;Moi je t'embarque pour Bangui,&lt;br /&gt;Si tu m'aides à bombarder l'Irak&lt;br /&gt;Moi je t'arrange le Kurdistan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{au Refrain}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si tu me laisses l'uranium&lt;br /&gt;Moi je te laisse l'aluminium,&lt;br /&gt;Si tu me laisses tes gisements&lt;br /&gt;Moi je t'aide à chasser les Talibans,&lt;br /&gt;Si tu me donnes beaucoup de blé&lt;br /&gt;Moi je fais la guerre à tes côtés,&lt;br /&gt;Si tu me laisses extraire ton or&lt;br /&gt;Moi je t'aide à mettre le général dehors&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{au Refrain}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ils ont partagé Africa sans nous consulter&lt;br /&gt;Ils s'étonnent que nous soyons désunis&lt;br /&gt;Une partie de l'empire Mandingue se trouva chez les Wolofs&lt;br /&gt;Une partie de l'empire Mossi se trouva dans le Ghana&lt;br /&gt;Une partie de l'empire Soussou se trouva dans l'empire Mandingue&lt;br /&gt;Une partie de l'empire Mandingue se trouva chez les Mossi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ils ont partagé Africa sans nous consulter&lt;br /&gt;Sans nous demander, aïe aïe aïe, sans nous aviser&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{au Refrain}&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-1902939407472535823?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/1902939407472535823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/07/tiken-jah-fakoly-nothing-surprises-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1902939407472535823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1902939407472535823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/07/tiken-jah-fakoly-nothing-surprises-me.html' title='Tiken Jah Fakoly - Nothing surprises me anymore&lt;br&gt; Plus rien ne m&apos;étonne'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-6888093673321053570</id><published>2007-07-04T04:53:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T03:53:17.457+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='International'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Natacha Atlas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Natacha Atlas - Don't Leave MeNe me quitte pas</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed src="http://moroccan.salmiya.net/songs/natasha/ram/natasha12.ram" type="audio/x-pn-realaudio-plugin" controls="default" pluginspage="www.real.com" autostart="False" loop="0" height="50" width="375"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natacha Atlas - Don't Leave Me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't leave me&lt;br /&gt;We must forget&lt;br /&gt;Everything you need to forget&lt;br /&gt;Everything can be forgotten that is already over&lt;br /&gt;Forget the times of the misunderstandings&lt;br /&gt;The lost time&lt;br /&gt;To know how to forget the hours&lt;br /&gt;Which sometimes have killed the heart of the hapiness with all this “why”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't leave me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ll offer you pearles of rain coming from countries where it never rains&lt;br /&gt;I will dig the earth untillafter my death to cover your body with gold and bright light&lt;br /&gt;I will make a kingdom where love will be king where love will be the law and where you will be queen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't leave me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Natacha Atlas - Ne Me Quitte Pas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ne me quitte pas&lt;br /&gt;Il faut oublier&lt;br /&gt;Tout peut s'oublier&lt;br /&gt;Qui s'enfuit deja&lt;br /&gt;Oublier le temps&lt;br /&gt;Des malentendus&lt;br /&gt;Et le temps perdu&lt;br /&gt;A savoir comment&lt;br /&gt;Oublier ces heures&lt;br /&gt;Qui tuaient parfois&lt;br /&gt;A coups de pourquoi&lt;br /&gt;Le coeur du bonheur&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ne me quitte pas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moi je t'offrirai&lt;br /&gt;Des perles de pluie&lt;br /&gt;Venues de pays&lt;br /&gt;Ou il ne pleut pas&lt;br /&gt;Je creuserai la terre&lt;br /&gt;Jusqu' apres ma mort&lt;br /&gt;Pour couvrir ton corps&lt;br /&gt;D'or et de lumiere&lt;br /&gt;Je ferai un domaine&lt;br /&gt;Ou l'amour sera roi&lt;br /&gt;Ou l'amour sera loi&lt;br /&gt;ou tu seras reine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ne me quitte pas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-6888093673321053570?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/6888093673321053570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/07/natacha-atlas-dont-leave-me-ne-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/6888093673321053570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/6888093673321053570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/07/natacha-atlas-dont-leave-me-ne-me.html' title='Natacha Atlas - Don&apos;t Leave Me&lt;br&gt;Ne me quitte pas'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-6428047618894467167</id><published>2007-07-04T04:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T03:57:48.266+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ishtar'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='International'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Ishtar - Like YouComme Toi</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/soOUDNsaZ5U"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/soOUDNsaZ5U" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table style="width: 540px; height: 168px;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Alabina - Like You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had light coloured eyes and a velvet dress&lt;br /&gt;Next to her mother and the family around&lt;br /&gt;She is posing a little distracted in the soft Sun of the end of the day.&lt;br /&gt;The photo is not good but we can see into it&lt;br /&gt;The hapiness in person and the softness of an evening&lt;br /&gt;She loved music specially Shuman and  Mozart&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="top"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like you&lt;br /&gt;Like you I am looking softly&lt;br /&gt;Like you who are dreaming about what&lt;br /&gt;Like you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She went to the school of the down bellow village&lt;br /&gt;She learnt the books she learnt the laws&lt;br /&gt;She sang about the frogs and the princesses who sleep in the wood&lt;br /&gt;She loved her doll she loved her friends&lt;br /&gt;Specially Ruth and Anna and specially Jeremie&lt;br /&gt;And they will marry one day maybe in Warsaw&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her name was Sarah she wasn’t quite 8&lt;br /&gt;Her life it was softness dreams and white clouds&lt;br /&gt;But other people had decided otherwise&lt;br /&gt;She had your light coloured eyes and she was your age&lt;br /&gt;She was a little girl uneventful life and very wise&lt;br /&gt;But she is not born like you here and now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Alabina - Comme Toi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elle avait les yeux clairs et la robe en velours&lt;br /&gt;À côté de sa mère et la famille autour&lt;br /&gt;Elle pose un peu distraite au doux soleil de la fin du jour&lt;br /&gt;La photo n'est pas bonne mais l'on peut y voir&lt;br /&gt;Le bonheur en personne et la douceur d'un soir&lt;br /&gt;Elle aimait la musique surtout Schuman et puis Mozart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comme toi comme toi comme toi comme toi&lt;br /&gt;Comme toi comme toi comme toi comme toi&lt;br /&gt;Comme toi que je regarde tout bas&lt;br /&gt;Comme toi qui dort en rêvant à quoi&lt;br /&gt;Comme toi comme toi comme toi comme toi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elle allait à l'école au village d'en bas&lt;br /&gt;Elle apprenait les livres elle apprenait les lois&lt;br /&gt;Elle chantait les grenouilles et les princesses qui dorment au bois&lt;br /&gt;Elle aimait sa poupée elle aimait ses amis&lt;br /&gt;Surtout Ruth et Anna et surtout Jérémie&lt;br /&gt;Et ils se marieraient un jour peut-être à Varsovie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elle s'appelait Sarah elle n'avait pas huit ans&lt;br /&gt;Sa vie c'était douceur rêves et nuages blancs&lt;br /&gt;Mais d'autres gens en avaient décidé autrement&lt;br /&gt;Elle avait tes yeux clairs et elle avait ton âge&lt;br /&gt;C'était une petite fille sans histoires et très sage&lt;br /&gt;Mais elle n'est pas née comme toi ici et maintenant&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-6428047618894467167?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/6428047618894467167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/07/ishtar-like-you-comme-toi.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/6428047618894467167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/6428047618894467167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/07/ishtar-like-you-comme-toi.html' title='Ishtar - Like You&lt;br&gt;Comme Toi'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-60431534090031148</id><published>2007-07-04T04:48:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T04:03:11.389+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tunisian'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pop'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Saber Robaey'/><title type='text'>Saber al-Robaey - I Defy the WorldAtahada el Alim</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed src="http://song5.6arab.com/saber-al-roba3y_at7adda-al-3alam-%28french-version%29.ram" type="audio/x-pn-realaudio-plugin" controls="default" pluginspage="www.real.com" autostart="False" loop="0" height="50" width="375"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saber al-Robaey - I Defy the World&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My empty eyes are empty from too much crying&lt;br /&gt;I don't have any more tears to beg with&lt;br /&gt;My parched lips whine a hundred magic words&lt;br /&gt;To implore you and to forget you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without you my nights are sad&lt;br /&gt;I dream all my fears&lt;br /&gt;The songs, the prose, the roses, their wild scents&lt;br /&gt;The sky, the breeze, the flowers, their hundred colors&lt;br /&gt;Cry over your departure, without any hope, any gleam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that oblivion, that long silence&lt;br /&gt;It is all over, the beautiful romance&lt;br /&gt;To be banished from another chance&lt;br /&gt;To be condemned to the suffuring&lt;br /&gt;Until the end of time, for eternity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sing, I pray, I implore in vain&lt;br /&gt;A caress, an final chorus&lt;br /&gt;To you, your gods, your guardian angels&lt;br /&gt;I swear to love for life until the end&lt;br /&gt;Until the end of time for eternity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;صابر الرباعي - اتحدى العالم&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mes yeux vidés de trop pleurer&lt;br /&gt;n'ont plus de larmes pour supplier&lt;br /&gt;mes levres arrides tes plainiétes (sic)&lt;br /&gt;cents mots magiques pour te prier pour t'oublier&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sans toi mes nuits sont tristes&lt;br /&gt;je reve toutes mes peurs&lt;br /&gt;les chants, les proses, les roses, leurs folles senteurs&lt;br /&gt;le ciel, la brise, les fleurs, leurs mille couleurs&lt;br /&gt;pleurent ton départ, sans un espoir, une lueur&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tout cet oubli, ce long silence&lt;br /&gt;tout est fini, la belle romance&lt;br /&gt;etre banni d'une autre chance&lt;br /&gt;etre maudi par la souffrance&lt;br /&gt;à la fin des temps, à l'éternité&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;je chante, je prie, j'implore en vain&lt;br /&gt;une caresse, un ultime refrain&lt;br /&gt;à toi, tes dieux, tes anges gardiens&lt;br /&gt;je jure amour à la vie de la fin&lt;br /&gt;à la fin des temps à l'éternité&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-60431534090031148?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/60431534090031148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/07/saber-al-robaey-i-defy-world-atahada-el.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/60431534090031148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/60431534090031148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/07/saber-al-robaey-i-defy-world-atahada-el.html' title='Saber al-Robaey - I Defy the World&lt;br&gt;Atahada el Alim'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-9143061046979083936</id><published>2007-07-04T04:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T04:05:12.864+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lebanese'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Elissa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Elissa - I'm sickJe suis malade</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed src="http://song5.6arab.com/elissa_je-suis-malade-%28solo%29.rm" type="audio/x-pn-realaudio-plugin" controls="default" pluginspage="www.real.com" autostart="False" loop="0" height="50" width="375"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elissa - I'm Sick&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't dream anymore&lt;br /&gt;I don't smoke anymore&lt;br /&gt;I don't have anymore history&lt;br /&gt;I am dirty without you&lt;br /&gt;I am ugly without you&lt;br /&gt;Like an orphan in a shelter&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to live&lt;br /&gt;My life stops when you leave&lt;br /&gt;I don't have life anymore, and even my bed turns into a platform&lt;br /&gt;When you leave, I am sick&lt;br /&gt;Completely sick&lt;br /&gt;Like when my mother used to go out at night and leave me with my despair&lt;br /&gt;I am sick, perfectly sick&lt;br /&gt;You leave without letting me know when&lt;br /&gt;You leave again to I don't know where&lt;br /&gt;And soon it will be two years&lt;br /&gt;that you don't give a damn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Je Suis Malade - إليسا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je ne rêve plus je ne fume plus je n'ai même plus d’histoires&lt;br /&gt;Je suis sale sans toi laid sans toi je suis comme un orphelin dans un dortoire&lt;br /&gt;Je n’ai plus envie de vivre ma vie cesse quand tu pars&lt;br /&gt;Je n’ai plus de vie et même mon lit se transforme en quai de gare&lt;br /&gt;Quand tu t’en vas je suis malade complètement malade&lt;br /&gt;Comme quand ma mère sortait le soir et qu’elle me laissait&lt;br /&gt;seul avec mon désespoir&lt;br /&gt;Je suis malade parfaitement malade&lt;br /&gt;Tu pars on ne sait jamais quand&lt;br /&gt;Tu repars on ne sais jamais ou&lt;br /&gt;Et ça va faire bientôt deux ans&lt;br /&gt;Que tu t’en fous&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-9143061046979083936?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/9143061046979083936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/07/elissa-im-sick-je-suis-malade.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/9143061046979083936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/9143061046979083936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/07/elissa-im-sick-je-suis-malade.html' title='Elissa - I&apos;m sick&lt;br&gt;Je suis malade'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-2980167728284360362</id><published>2007-07-04T04:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-20T12:59:07.284+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Algerian'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Raï'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Faudel'/><title type='text'>Faudel - I Am SearchingJe Cherche</title><content type='html'>Faudel - I Am Searching&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember, it is not difficult,&lt;br /&gt;Laundry was drying in the sun on the line&lt;br /&gt;And the face of mother, on a tune from the country&lt;br /&gt;The knees scratched from our forbidden kids games&lt;br /&gt;Our shoes without studs delineate the field&lt;br /&gt;And the wounded heart of a lost hapiness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paris&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paris Trocadero, Algiers the White, and your eyes in mine&lt;br /&gt;A look, a sound, a smell, I feel good&lt;br /&gt;A little from here, a little from there, I remember&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I am searching&lt;br /&gt;I am searching (In Arabic)Rani nhawass&lt;br /&gt;I am searching for my path&lt;br /&gt;My fate, my destiny&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the benches of school, I learned the present,&lt;br /&gt;To conjugate the passing time, however&lt;br /&gt;My mind was elsewhere, I was dreaming, different&lt;br /&gt;In the frantic race, the race for feelings&lt;br /&gt;For an insincere "I love you" which hurts so often&lt;br /&gt;Our emotions come alive slowly, slowly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{Refrain, x4}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look for hours and hours&lt;br /&gt;the why from the how&lt;br /&gt;on tunes and tunes throbbing&lt;br /&gt;And the passions are unwinding,&lt;br /&gt;and the torments, and the torments&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Faudel - Je Cherche&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je me souviens, et c'est pas difficile,&lt;br /&gt;Du linge qui séchait au soleil sur un fil&lt;br /&gt;Et le visage de ma mère sur un air du pays,&lt;br /&gt;Les genoux écorchés par nos jeux interdits de gamins&lt;br /&gt;Nos chaussures sans crampons délimitent le terrain&lt;br /&gt;Et le cœur abîmé d'un bonheur perdu deux à un&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paris Trocadéro, Alger La Blanche, et tes yeux dans les miens&lt;br /&gt;Un regard, un bruit, une odeur, j'me sens bien&lt;br /&gt;Un peu d'ici, un peu d'là bas, ça m'revient&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{Refrain, x2}&lt;br /&gt;Et je cherche,&lt;br /&gt;Rani nhawass&lt;br /&gt;Je cherche mon chemin,&lt;br /&gt;Mon mektoub, mon destin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sur les bancs de l'école, j'ai appris le présent,&lt;br /&gt;A conjuguer le temps qui passe, et pourtant&lt;br /&gt;La tête ailleurs je rêvais, différent,&lt;br /&gt;Dans la course effrénée, la course aux sentiments&lt;br /&gt;Pour un "Je t'aime" en l'air qui blesse très souvent&lt;br /&gt;Nos émotions s'animent lentement, lentement&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{Refrain, x4}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je cherche pendant des heures et des heures&lt;br /&gt;Le pourquoi du comment&lt;br /&gt;Sur des airs et des airs lancinants&lt;br /&gt;Et que défilent les passions,&lt;br /&gt;Les tourments, les tourments&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-2980167728284360362?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/2980167728284360362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/07/faudel-i-am-searching-je-cherche.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2980167728284360362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2980167728284360362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/07/faudel-i-am-searching-je-cherche.html' title='Faudel - I Am Searching&lt;br&gt;Je Cherche'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-3462910364488135725</id><published>2007-07-04T04:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-20T12:59:25.950+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Algerian'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Raï'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Faudel'/><title type='text'>Faudel - Tell meDis-moi</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_WD_Ud3mAeg"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_WD_Ud3mAeg" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faudel - Tell Me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me how I can do to understand all that&lt;br /&gt;And you, today do I have still the right&lt;br /&gt;To believe in things that don't exist&lt;br /&gt;Tell me how I can do to understand all that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are moments when I don't know what to think&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To not get lost into the oblivion&lt;br /&gt;To not let the time goes by&lt;br /&gt;But I see everything around is turning sour&lt;br /&gt;Without any respect&lt;br /&gt;I think to myself It is like that, life is a long fight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me how I can do to understand all that&lt;br /&gt;And you, does the world will change one day&lt;br /&gt;There, why I wanted to tell you this&lt;br /&gt;Tell me how I can do to understand all that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, what hope do we have in this life&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, who mêhédir to understand all that&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, who mêhédir elfim koulchi&lt;br /&gt;If you didn't understand that life is challence&lt;br /&gt;For us every day looks the same&lt;br /&gt;The pain makes us survive together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me how I can do to understand all that&lt;br /&gt;Believe me, love will save us&lt;br /&gt;Love is hope we have in this life&lt;br /&gt;Believe me, love will save us&lt;br /&gt;Gomli...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Faudel - Dis-Moi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dis-moi comment faire pour comprendre tout ça&lt;br /&gt;Et toi, aujourd'hui ai-je encore le droit&lt;br /&gt;De croire en des choses qui n'existent pas&lt;br /&gt;Dis-moi comment faire pour comprend tout ça&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il y a des moments où je ne sais plus quoi penser&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ne pas s'égarer dans l'oubli&lt;br /&gt;Ne pas laisser le temps passer&lt;br /&gt;Mais je vois tout se dégrader autour de moi&lt;br /&gt;Sans aucun respect&lt;br /&gt;Je me dis c'est comme ça la vie est un long combat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dis-moi comment faire pour comprendre tout ça&lt;br /&gt;Et toi, est-ce qu'un jour le monde bougera&lt;br /&gt;Voilà, pourquoi je voulais te dire cela&lt;br /&gt;Dis-moi, comment faire pour comprendre tout ça.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dis-moi, quel espoir a-t-on dans cette vie&lt;br /&gt;Dis-moi, qui mêhédir pour comprendre tout ça&lt;br /&gt;Dis-moi, qui mêhédir elfim koulchi&lt;br /&gt;Si tu n'as pas compris que la vie est un défi&lt;br /&gt;Pour nous les jours se ressemblent&lt;br /&gt;La souffrance nous fait survivre ensemble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dis-moi comment faire pour comprendre tout ça&lt;br /&gt;Crois-moi c'est l'amour qui nous sauvera&lt;br /&gt;L'amour c'est l'espoir qu'on a dans cette vie&lt;br /&gt;Crois-moi c'est l'amour qui nous sauvera&lt;br /&gt;Gomli...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-3462910364488135725?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/3462910364488135725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/07/faudel-tell-me-dis-moi.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/3462910364488135725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/3462910364488135725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/07/faudel-tell-me-dis-moi.html' title='Faudel - Tell me&lt;br&gt;Dis-moi'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-4828489257422590886</id><published>2007-07-04T04:41:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T11:37:16.672Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Algerian'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cheb Mami'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Raï'/><title type='text'>Cheb Mami - In a wonderlandAu pays des merveilles</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-N_GJOnv9HQ&amp;hl=pl&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-N_GJOnv9HQ&amp;hl=pl&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart is in a wonderland&lt;br /&gt;My heart is in a wonderland&lt;br /&gt;Where, unwillingly, I meet my old friends&lt;br /&gt;Memories awaken Ah!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I meet you tonight Oh! you, my friends&lt;br /&gt;Flowers of my life, feeling you there&lt;br /&gt;Eyes opened, pearls of sun, of sun,&lt;br /&gt;My memories awaken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They're all my friends and neighbors (in Arabic)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart is in a wonderland&lt;br /&gt;My heart is in a wonderland&lt;br /&gt;Where, unwillingly, I meet my old friends&lt;br /&gt;Memories awaken Ah!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you with an eternal love&lt;br /&gt;My sweet spring, Ah ! layli&lt;br /&gt;My best spring, eternal love&lt;br /&gt;Where, unwillingly, I meet my old friends&lt;br /&gt;Memories awaken Ah!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart is in a wonderland&lt;br /&gt;My heart is in a wonderland&lt;br /&gt;Where, unwillingly, I meet my old friends&lt;br /&gt;Memories awaken Ah!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Au pays des merveilles - شاب مامي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mon cœur est au pays des merveilles&lt;br /&gt;Mon cœur est au pays des merveilles&lt;br /&gt;Où je revois mes amis d'autrefois malgré moi&lt;br /&gt;Les souvenirs s'éveillent Ah ! ! !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mon cœur est au pays des merveilles&lt;br /&gt;Mon cœur est au pays des merveilles&lt;br /&gt;Où je revois mes amis d'autrefois malgré moi&lt;br /&gt;Les souvenirs s'éveillent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je vous revois ce soir oh ! Vous mes amis&lt;br /&gt;Fleurs de ma vie de vous sentir ici&lt;br /&gt;Les yeux ouverts perles de soleil, de soleil&lt;br /&gt;Mes souvenirs s'éveillent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La la la ... ahouma djaou s'habi ou djirana&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mon cœur est au pays des merveilles&lt;br /&gt;Mon cœur est au pays des merveilles&lt;br /&gt;Ou je revois mes amis d'autrefois malgré moi&lt;br /&gt;Les souvenirs s'éveillent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Liam ezzin amine kouna m'tâounin rahatou walat lina&lt;br /&gt;Liam ezzin amine kouna m'tâounin rahatou walat lina&lt;br /&gt;Liam ezzin amine kouna m'tâounin min kouna...&lt;br /&gt;Ahouma djaou s'habi ou djirana&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mon cœur est au pays des merveilles&lt;br /&gt;Mon cœur est au pays des merveilles&lt;br /&gt;Ou je revois mes amis d'autrefois malgré moi&lt;br /&gt;Mes souvenirs s'éveillent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La la la ... ahouma djaou s'habi ou djirana&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je vous aime d'un amour éternel&lt;br /&gt;Mon doux printemps Ah ! layli&lt;br /&gt;Mon meilleur printemps, amour éternel&lt;br /&gt;Où je revois mes amis d'autrefois malgré moi&lt;br /&gt;Les souvenirs s'éveillent Ah !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mon cœur est au pays des merveilles&lt;br /&gt;Mon cœur est au pays des merveilles&lt;br /&gt;Où je revois mes amis d'autrefois malgré moi&lt;br /&gt;Mes souvenirs s'éveillent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La la la ... ahouma djaou s'habi ou djirana&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Au pays des merveilles ... Oh ! ( x4 )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah ! ...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-4828489257422590886?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/4828489257422590886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/07/cheb-mami-in-wonderland-au-pays-des.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/4828489257422590886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/4828489257422590886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/07/cheb-mami-in-wonderland-au-pays-des.html' title='Cheb Mami - In a wonderland&lt;br&gt;Au pays des merveilles'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-7280054189580679174</id><published>2007-06-29T12:54:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-06-29T18:23:35.293+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Canadian-Mexican'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lhasa de Sela'/><title type='text'>Lhasa - La ConfessionThe Confession</title><content type='html'>http://youtube.com/watch?v=Z0qmj9XiYLM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The confession&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not afraid&lt;br /&gt;To say that i betrayed you&lt;br /&gt;Out of pure laziness&lt;br /&gt;Out of pure melancholy&lt;br /&gt;Between you&lt;br /&gt;And the devil&lt;br /&gt;I chose the most&lt;br /&gt;Comfortable&lt;br /&gt;But all of that&lt;br /&gt;Isn’t the reason&lt;br /&gt;That i feel guilty&lt;br /&gt;Dear friend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not afraid&lt;br /&gt;To say you frighten me&lt;br /&gt;With your hope&lt;br /&gt;And your great sense&lt;br /&gt;Of honor&lt;br /&gt;You make me want to&lt;br /&gt;Ruin everything&lt;br /&gt;To tear that smile&lt;br /&gt;From your face&lt;br /&gt;And even that&lt;br /&gt;Is not the reason&lt;br /&gt;That i feel guilty&lt;br /&gt;That’s the worst of it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel guilty&lt;br /&gt;Because it’s a habit&lt;br /&gt;It’s the only thing&lt;br /&gt;I can do&lt;br /&gt;With real&lt;br /&gt;Certainty&lt;br /&gt;It’s reassuring&lt;br /&gt;To think that&lt;br /&gt;There is no mistake&lt;br /&gt;When it comes&lt;br /&gt;To the question&lt;br /&gt;Of my great guilt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not afraid&lt;br /&gt;To say i cheated&lt;br /&gt;I put my most&lt;br /&gt;Pure thoughts&lt;br /&gt;Up for sale&lt;br /&gt;I want to forget&lt;br /&gt;This whole idea&lt;br /&gt;Of « truth »&lt;br /&gt;I’ll keep&lt;br /&gt;As my guides&lt;br /&gt;Only pleasure&lt;br /&gt;And guilt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Translation: www.sendereando.com/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt; Je n'ai pas peur&lt;br /&gt;De dire que je t'ai trahi&lt;br /&gt;Par pure paresse&lt;br /&gt;Par pure mélancolie&lt;br /&gt;Qu'entre toi&lt;br /&gt;Et le Diable&lt;br /&gt;J'ai choisi le plus&lt;br /&gt;Confortable&lt;br /&gt;Mais tout cela&lt;br /&gt;N'est pas pourquoi&lt;br /&gt;Je me sens coupable&lt;br /&gt;Mon cher ami&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je n'ai pas peur de dire&lt;br /&gt;Que tu me fais peur&lt;br /&gt;Avec ton espoir&lt;br /&gt;Et ton grand sens&lt;br /&gt;De l'honneur&lt;br /&gt;Tu me donnes envie&lt;br /&gt;De tout détruire&lt;br /&gt;De t'arracher&lt;br /&gt;Le beau sourire&lt;br /&gt;ET meme ca&lt;br /&gt;N'est pas pourquoi&lt;br /&gt;Je me sens coupable&lt;br /&gt;C'est ca le pire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je me sens coupable&lt;br /&gt;Parce que j'ai l'habitude&lt;br /&gt;C'est la seule chose&lt;br /&gt;Que je peux faire&lt;br /&gt;Avec une certaine&lt;br /&gt;Certitude&lt;br /&gt;C'est rassurant&lt;br /&gt;De penser&lt;br /&gt;Que je suis sûre&lt;br /&gt;Se ne pas me tromper&lt;br /&gt;Quand il s'agit&lt;br /&gt;De la question&lt;br /&gt;De ma grande culpabilité&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je n'ai pas peur&lt;br /&gt;De dire que j'ai triché&lt;br /&gt;j'ai mis les plus pures&lt;br /&gt;De mes pensées&lt;br /&gt;Sur le marché&lt;br /&gt;J'ai envie de laisser tomber&lt;br /&gt;Toute cette idée&lt;br /&gt;De "vérité"&lt;br /&gt;Je garderais&lt;br /&gt;Pour me guider&lt;br /&gt;Plaisir et culpabilité&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-7280054189580679174?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/7280054189580679174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/lhasa-la-confession-confession.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/7280054189580679174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/7280054189580679174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/lhasa-la-confession-confession.html' title='Lhasa - La Confession&lt;br&gt;The Confession'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-2252574312064653027</id><published>2007-06-29T12:50:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-06T18:32:41.023+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Senegal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ismael Lo'/><title type='text'>Ismael Lo - The Woman without HatredLa Femme sans haine</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;object height="335" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/3eJLDlvWzHgkq86IA"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/3eJLDlvWzHgkq86IA" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="335" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x15f38_la-femme-sans-haine"&gt;La femme sans haine&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every woman is a queen.&lt;br /&gt;Some of them are more queen than the queens.&lt;br /&gt;They say suprising things.&lt;br /&gt;They brake the men they chain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This song is for this queen&lt;br /&gt;who says to her king:"Now&lt;br /&gt;I leave with the wind&lt;br /&gt;With the barbarians of the West.&lt;br /&gt;What you haven't fought for&lt;br /&gt;Don't think you're going to keep it with tears.&lt;br /&gt;I leave where your people is leaving&lt;br /&gt;I leave to find another king..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every womean is a queen.&lt;br /&gt;On the land, on the sea, snow or desert&lt;br /&gt;Behind the veil of the full shapes&lt;br /&gt;There is the mystery of the sirens.&lt;br /&gt;Burn the cities, burn the dumps.&lt;br /&gt;The flame licks and the iron touches&lt;br /&gt;The living flesh speaks through the mouth&lt;br /&gt;The dead flesh speaks through the fly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What you haven't fought for&lt;br /&gt;Don't think you're going to keep it with tears.&lt;br /&gt;I leave where your people is leaving&lt;br /&gt;I leave to find another king..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every woman is a queen&lt;br /&gt;Say that to the woman who loves you.&lt;br /&gt;Doesn't want to become a king&lt;br /&gt;Doesn't change anything, it's like that...&lt;br /&gt;Here is what a queen said&lt;br /&gt;To a good king, defeated, without hatred&lt;br /&gt;She's gone just as the sea leaves&lt;br /&gt;When the moon wants it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What you haven't fought for&lt;br /&gt;Don't think you're going to keep it with tears.&lt;br /&gt;I leave where your people is leaving&lt;br /&gt;I leave to find another king..."&lt;br /&gt;I leave.&lt;br /&gt;I leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Toutes les femmes sont des reines.&lt;br /&gt;Certaines plus reines que les reines.&lt;br /&gt;Elles disent des choses qui surprennent.&lt;br /&gt;Elles brisent les hommes qu’elles enchaînent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cette chanson pour cette reine&lt;br /&gt;Qui dit à son roi : « Maintenant&lt;br /&gt;Je m’en vais avec le vent,&lt;br /&gt;Avec les barbares d’Occident… »&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ce que tu n’as pas défendu par les armes&lt;br /&gt;Ne crois pas le garder avec des larmes&lt;br /&gt;Je m’en vais où ton peuple va&lt;br /&gt;Je m’en vais, me chercher un autre roi…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toutes les femmes sont des reines.&lt;br /&gt;Sur terre, sur mer, neige ou désert&lt;br /&gt;Derrière le voile des formes pleines&lt;br /&gt;Il y a le mystère des sirènes.&lt;br /&gt;Brûlez les villes, brûlez les bouges.&lt;br /&gt;La flamme lèche et le fer touche&lt;br /&gt;La chair vivante parle par la bouche.&lt;br /&gt;La chair morte parle par la mouche.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ce que tu n’as pas défendu par les armes&lt;br /&gt;Ne crois pas le garder avec des larmes.&lt;br /&gt;Je m’en vais où ton peuple va.&lt;br /&gt;Je m’en vais, me chercher un autre roi…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toutes les femmes sont des reines.&lt;br /&gt;Dis-le à celle qui t’aime.&lt;br /&gt;Ne pas vouloir devenir roi.&lt;br /&gt;Ne change rien, c’est comme ça…&lt;br /&gt;Voilà ce qu’a dit une reine&lt;br /&gt;A un roi bon, vaincu, sans haine&lt;br /&gt;Elle est partie comme s’en va la mer,&lt;br /&gt;Quand la lune veut ça…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ce que tu n’as pas défendu par les armes&lt;br /&gt;Ne crois pas le garder avec des larmes&lt;br /&gt;Je m’en vais où ton peuple va.&lt;br /&gt;Je m’en vais, me chercher un autre roi…&lt;br /&gt;Je m’en vais.&lt;br /&gt;Je m’en vais.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-2252574312064653027?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/2252574312064653027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/ismael-lo-woman-without-hatred-la-femme.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2252574312064653027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2252574312064653027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/ismael-lo-woman-without-hatred-la-femme.html' title='Ismael Lo - The Woman without Hatred&lt;br&gt;La Femme sans haine'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-3946322699316303114</id><published>2007-06-26T03:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-19T19:24:49.283+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dominique A'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Dominique A -  The HorizonL'Horizon</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pVTojruPZAk"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pVTojruPZAk" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"we won't go further", the captain tells you&lt;br /&gt;Too many obstacles today to reach the horizon&lt;br /&gt;Exhausted wales are groaning on the shore&lt;br /&gt;Their blood is covering their mouth like fish-hooks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like hills hiding the horizon&lt;br /&gt;Crests insensible to the adagio of the plains&lt;br /&gt;"I'm really sorry" tells you the captain&lt;br /&gt;And you feel he speaks the truth and his heart is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the ruby mouth of a woman with a gig&lt;br /&gt;who comes into your home and bleeds the whales&lt;br /&gt;makes you despise the horizon for months&lt;br /&gt;and disregard the captain when you pass him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you come back home you think life is pleasant&lt;br /&gt;Lie is everywhere seeped into your veins&lt;br /&gt;For how much you like the taste of the blood of wales&lt;br /&gt;that spillovers from the woman with a gig mouth's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But one day, the captain pulls your sleeve&lt;br /&gt;With his bulging eyes, he tells you "Let's leave again"&lt;br /&gt;It is time to leave the sleep of the queens&lt;br /&gt;Because nobody is waiting for us as much as the horizon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lob Nor is waiting for you, the Inlandsis is calling you&lt;br /&gt;The Sierra Nevada screams your name at night&lt;br /&gt;And the Big Blue that emphazises the sky&lt;br /&gt;Each one of them is asking for you and offers you the horizon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this one eludes you&lt;br /&gt;By shewish summits, deeply embanked valleys,&lt;br /&gt;Stone-hearted cities crazily shaped,&lt;br /&gt;Look, your beard is gowing and your footsteps are getting slower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you hear far away the wails of the whales&lt;br /&gt;Which before ending on the shore&lt;br /&gt;Must have known the horizon that only the captain&lt;br /&gt;Hopes for two that you pass by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But one day, in the rising silence around&lt;br /&gt;As you eyes are unsticking, you know that you have been left&lt;br /&gt;Alone with your old dream and its shadow is a vulture&lt;br /&gt;that under your rags feels the flesh running dry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as slowly circling in, it is going to proceed you&lt;br /&gt;The set is getting flat, the curves are untying&lt;br /&gt;Everything is freed up, yes, for sure it was too tired to wait for you&lt;br /&gt;It is it that is coming to you; there it is here: the horizon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;«Nous n’irons pas plus loin», te dit le capitaine&lt;br /&gt;Trop d’obstacles aujourd’hui pour gagner l’horizon&lt;br /&gt;Des baleines épuisées gémissent sur la grève&lt;br /&gt;Leur sang couvre des bouches comme autant d’hameçons&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comme autant de collines occultant l’horizon&lt;br /&gt;De crêtes insensibles à l’adagio des plaines&lt;br /&gt;« Je suis vraiment navré », te dit le capitaine&lt;br /&gt;Et tu sens qu’il dit vrai et qu’il a le cœur bon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dès lors la bouche vermeille d’une femme au harpon&lt;br /&gt;Qui entre dans tes murs et saigne les baleines&lt;br /&gt;Te fait des mois durant dédaigner l’horizon&lt;br /&gt;Et lorsque tu le croises snober le capitaine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quand tu rentres chez toi, tu te dis qu’il fait bon&lt;br /&gt;Le mensonge est partout infiltré dans tes veines&lt;br /&gt;Tant tu aimes goûter au sang de la baleine&lt;br /&gt;Qui déborde des lèvres de la femme au harpon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais un jour sur ta manche tire le capitaine&lt;br /&gt;Les yeux exorbités, il te dit : « Repartons ».&lt;br /&gt;Il est temps de sortir du sommeil des reines&lt;br /&gt;Car nul ne vous attend autant que l’horizon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C’est Lob Nor qui t’espère, l’Inlandsis qui t’appelle&lt;br /&gt;La Sierra Nevada qui la nuit crie ton nom&lt;br /&gt;Et c’est la Grande Bleue qui rehausse le ciel&lt;br /&gt;Chacun d’eux te réclame et t’offre l’horizon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais celui-ci t’échappe, stoppé dans son élan&lt;br /&gt;Par des sommets hargneux, des vallées encaissées,&lt;br /&gt;Des villes au cœur de pierre aux formes insensées&lt;br /&gt;Vois, la barbe te pousse et ton pas se fait lent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et tu entends au loin les plaintes des baleines&lt;br /&gt;Qui avant de finir sur la grève ont sans doute&lt;br /&gt;Connu cet horizon dont seul le capitaine&lt;br /&gt;Espère encore pour deux que tu croises la route.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais un jour au silence qui monte aux alentours&lt;br /&gt;Comme tes yeux se décollent, tu sais qu’on t’a laissé&lt;br /&gt;Seul avec ton vieux rêve dont l’ombre est un vautour&lt;br /&gt;Qui dessous tes haillons sent la chair s’assécher&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et comme en de lents cercles, il va pour t’entreprendre&lt;br /&gt;Le décor s’aplanit, les courbes se défont&lt;br /&gt;Tout se dégage, oui, sans doute las de t’attendre&lt;br /&gt;C’est lui qui vient à toi ; il est là : l’horizon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-3946322699316303114?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/3946322699316303114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/dominique-the-horizon-lhorizon.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/3946322699316303114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/3946322699316303114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/dominique-the-horizon-lhorizon.html' title='Dominique A -  The Horizon&lt;br&gt;L&apos;Horizon'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-6563520075464462751</id><published>2007-06-22T14:31:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-01T16:19:10.617+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pauline Croze'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Pauline Croze - TearsLarmes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yFAaznP0CeQ"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yFAaznP0CeQ" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Pauline Croze - Tears&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tears of lava, tears of fire&lt;br /&gt;Flowed poured so much that today&lt;br /&gt;Our bodies are burning hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tears of yesterday, tears of glass&lt;br /&gt;slid so much that today&lt;br /&gt;Our eyes are washed out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stream of our tears&lt;br /&gt;Invades our souls,&lt;br /&gt;Invades our souls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tears of caress, tears of silk,&lt;br /&gt;Curl up into the hollow of our hands,&lt;br /&gt;That we try to untie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Burst of light, tears of sky-blue,&lt;br /&gt;Crowned our hair&lt;br /&gt;With blinding gleams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stream of our tears&lt;br /&gt;Invades our souls,&lt;br /&gt;Invades our souls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stream of our tears&lt;br /&gt;Purifies our souls...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Pauline Croze - Larmes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Larmes de lave, larmes de feu,&lt;br /&gt;Ont tant coulé, qu'aujourd'hui,&lt;br /&gt;Nos corps sont embrasés.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Larmes d'hier, larmes de verre,&lt;br /&gt;Ont tant glissé, qu'aujourd'hui,&lt;br /&gt;Nos yeux sont délavés.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Le flot de nos larmes,&lt;br /&gt;Envahit nos âmes,&lt;br /&gt;Envahit nos âmes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Larmes de caresses, larmes de soie,&lt;br /&gt;Se lovent au creux de nos mains,&lt;br /&gt;Que l'on cherche à défaire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eclats de lumière, larmes d'azur,&lt;br /&gt;Ont couronnés nos cheveux&lt;br /&gt;D'éblouissants reflets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Le flot de nos larmes,&lt;br /&gt;Envahit nos âmes&lt;br /&gt;Envahit nos âmes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Le flot de nos larmes&lt;br /&gt;Purifie nos âmes...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-6563520075464462751?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/6563520075464462751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/pauline-croze-tears-larmes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/6563520075464462751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/6563520075464462751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/pauline-croze-tears-larmes.html' title='Pauline Croze - Tears&lt;br&gt;Larmes'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-4230065401252068529</id><published>2007-06-22T14:17:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T22:32:08.224+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jeanne Cherhal'/><title type='text'>Jeanne Cherhal - The Little NeighbourLe petit voisin</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/h5ZeeUNsxvg"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/h5ZeeUNsxvg" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Jeanne Cherhal - The Little Neighbour&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little neighbour is called Jocelyn, with a P, with an F like in Martine.&lt;br /&gt;The little neighbour has a screw loose, a grain of salt or of sand, or a coffee bean&lt;br /&gt;The little neighbour lived above our home that is obviously below.&lt;br /&gt;He takes Jiu-Jitsu lessons but he's not a bad guy, not at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in the whole building, dirty but nice, we argue, we contest, we have a bout, kindly.&lt;br /&gt;But the little neighbour doesn't care because he is a student.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little neighbour in his studio has some instruments quite rare and strange.&lt;br /&gt;Percussion, a Malien mask, ashtrays and some charms made of bakelite.&lt;br /&gt;He blows in a piece of bamboo, a didjeridoo from a shop, from Nepal.&lt;br /&gt;He plays putting nozzle on bottles, then he breaths and becomes all pale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in the whole building, dirty but acceptable, we argue, we contest, we have a bout quietly.&lt;br /&gt;But the little neighbour sits to his table and rolls a joint because he is a student.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From time to time, the little neighbour to justify his scolarship&lt;br /&gt;Walks over out of his studio and integrate a lecture hall packed like a big bag,&lt;br /&gt;Then the hour passed, he comes back to the harbour, not without a detour at Bubu's.&lt;br /&gt;A little game of "Fighting Simulator", but not more than four hours, no excess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in the whole building, dirty but ok, we argue, we contest, we sign petitions&lt;br /&gt;But the little neighbour, reading mangas, dreams about better days because he is student.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the civic tarmac that we trample when we cannot stand any more to slug, we can see passing by the little neighbor:&lt;br /&gt;Under shirttails, he likes to claim for more of this, less of that.&lt;br /&gt;A sitting playing Djembe in front of the prefecture.&lt;br /&gt;The lost causes, the big debates, we end by make everything burns in the adventure!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in the whole building, dirty and half finish, we argue, we contest, to be sick of it.&lt;br /&gt;And the little neighbour, in the paddy wagon, starts to regret the past five years and half.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, the little neighbour will go checking in the unemployment bureau.&lt;br /&gt;He will be borred and the time will be far when he was dreaming that tomorow will be better.&lt;br /&gt;Then to cheat bitterness, like when he was 18 screaming Enough!, he will go back on the tarmac.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing will change, but at least it warms up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least, it wa... It warms up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Jeanne Cherhal - Le petit voisin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Le petit voisin s'appelle Jocelyn avec un P avec un F comme dans Martine.&lt;br /&gt;Le petit voisin il a un grain, de sel ou bien de sable, ou bien de caféine.&lt;br /&gt;Le petit voisin habite au-dessus de chez nous qui, évidemment, sommes en-dessous.&lt;br /&gt;Il prend des cours de Ju-Jitsu mais n'est pas mauvais, n'est pas mauvais pour deux sous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et, dans tout l'immeuble, crado mais sympathique, on se chicane, on se cherche, on s'engueule gentiment.&lt;br /&gt;Mais le petit voisin, il est total stoïque.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et d'ailleurs il s'en fout car il est étudiant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Le petit voisin dans son T1 a des instruments assez rares et insolites.&lt;br /&gt;Des percus, un masque malien, des cendriers et des grigris de bakélite.&lt;br /&gt;Il souffle dans un bout de bambou, un didjeridoo de Pier Import, du Népal.&lt;br /&gt;Il joue à poser des embouts sur des bouteilles, puis il aspire et devient tout pâle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et, dans tout l'immeuble, crado mais acceptable, on se chicane, on se cherche, on s'engueule calmement.&lt;br /&gt;Mais le petit voisin, il s'assied à sa table et il se roule un stick car il est étudiant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De temps en temps, le petit voisin, pour justifier sa bourse accordée par la fac,&lt;br /&gt;fait un saut hors de son T1 et intègre un amphi bondé comme un gros sac.&lt;br /&gt;Puis l'heure passée, il rentre au port non sans avoir fait un détour par chez Bubu.&lt;br /&gt;Une petite partie de Fighting Simulator, mais pas plus de quatre heures, il faut pas d'abus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et dans tout l'immeuble, crado mais bon, ça va, on se chicane, on se cherche, on signe des pétitions.&lt;br /&gt;Mais le petit voisin, en lisant des mangas, rêve à des jours meilleurs car il est étudiant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sur le macadam citoyen que l'on piétine quand on n'en peut plus de stagner, on voit passer le petit voisin:&lt;br /&gt;sous des bannières il se plait à revendiquer un peu plus de ci moins de ça.&lt;br /&gt;Un sitting au djembé devant la préfecture.&lt;br /&gt;Les causes perdues, les grands débats, on finit par tout faire flamber dans l'aventure!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et dans tout l'immeuble, crado et pas fini, on se chicane, on se cherche à s'en rendre malade.&lt;br /&gt;Et le petit voisin, dans le panier à salade, commence à regretter ses cinq ans et demi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et puis un jour, le petit voisin ira pointer quelque part pour bouffer un peu.&lt;br /&gt;Il s'ennuiera et sera loin le temps où il rêvait que demain serait mieux.&lt;br /&gt;Alors pour tromper l'amertume comme à dix-huit berges en criant que ça suffit, il arpentera le bitume.&lt;br /&gt;Rien ne changera mais au mois ça dégourdit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Au moins ça dé, Au moins ça dégourdit...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-4230065401252068529?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/4230065401252068529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/jeanne-cherhal-little-neighbour-le.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/4230065401252068529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/4230065401252068529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/jeanne-cherhal-little-neighbour-le.html' title='Jeanne Cherhal - The Little Neighbour&lt;br&gt;Le petit voisin'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-7828526754055819109</id><published>2007-06-17T16:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-06-20T18:35:33.898+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Les Têtes Raides'/><title type='text'>Les Têtes Raides - FragileFragile</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0-i6WojTK_M"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0-i6WojTK_M" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The video of this song has been censored by the French TV. "You can show war and death, but birth is too gory on TV..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les Têtes Raides - Fragile&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've thrown away my body into the trench&lt;br /&gt;Why to be dead, if I was born?&lt;br /&gt;If I was born, I would still be&lt;br /&gt;wondering where is the way out?&lt;br /&gt;If I was born, I would have liked to&lt;br /&gt;take wing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pointed  out the tip of my nose&lt;br /&gt;I've just bloomed, that's it! I am born&lt;br /&gt;I ran then, without looking&lt;br /&gt;the South or the North, I was born&lt;br /&gt;If I was born, I would have liked to&lt;br /&gt;touch it with my finger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This fragile&lt;br /&gt;the armspan&lt;br /&gt;It's fragile&lt;br /&gt;the chords of your voice&lt;br /&gt;It's fragile&lt;br /&gt;the fabric of our skin&lt;br /&gt;It's fragile&lt;br /&gt;the current of our bones&lt;br /&gt;It's fragile&lt;br /&gt;when you say only one word&lt;br /&gt;It's fragile&lt;br /&gt;the wings of the birds&lt;br /&gt;It's fragile&lt;br /&gt;we only live once&lt;br /&gt;It's fragile&lt;br /&gt;it pegs out between the fingers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I counted the dead, and it showed me&lt;br /&gt;the back side, then I was born&lt;br /&gt;If I wasn't born, I'm still running&lt;br /&gt;without looking back, to life and to death&lt;br /&gt;If I was born, I would have liked to&lt;br /&gt;be able to taste it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I crashed my body on the roadway&lt;br /&gt;Why am I dead if I was born?&lt;br /&gt;If I still exist, I am gone&lt;br /&gt;Like I am dead, well, I was born&lt;br /&gt;If I was born, I would have like&lt;br /&gt;forget myself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This fragile&lt;br /&gt;the armspan&lt;br /&gt;It's fragile&lt;br /&gt;the chords of your voice&lt;br /&gt;It's fragile&lt;br /&gt;the fabric of our skin&lt;br /&gt;It's fragile&lt;br /&gt;the current of our bones&lt;br /&gt;It's fragile&lt;br /&gt;when you say only one word&lt;br /&gt;It's fragile&lt;br /&gt;the wings of the birds&lt;br /&gt;It's fragile&lt;br /&gt;we only live once&lt;br /&gt;It's fragile&lt;br /&gt;it pegs out between the fingers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Les Têtes Raides - Fragile&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;J'ai jeté mon corps dans le fossé&lt;br /&gt;Pourquoi être mort si j'étais né?&lt;br /&gt;Si j'étais pas né j'en serai encore&lt;br /&gt;A me demander c'est par où qu'on sort?&lt;br /&gt;Si j'étais né j'aurais bien aimé&lt;br /&gt;m'envoler&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai pointé dehors le bout du nez&lt;br /&gt;Je venais d'éclore. Ca y est! j'étais né&lt;br /&gt;J'ai courru alors, sans regarder&lt;br /&gt;le Sud ou le Nord, j'étais né&lt;br /&gt;Si j'étais né, j'aurais bien aimé&lt;br /&gt;du doigt le toucher&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ce fragile&lt;br /&gt;l'extension de tes bras&lt;br /&gt;c'est fragile&lt;br /&gt;les cordes de ta voix&lt;br /&gt;c'est fragile&lt;br /&gt;le tissu de nos peaux&lt;br /&gt;c'est fragile&lt;br /&gt;le courant de nos os&lt;br /&gt;c'est fragile&lt;br /&gt;quand tu ne dis qu'un mot&lt;br /&gt;c'est fragile&lt;br /&gt;les ailes des oiseaux&lt;br /&gt;c'est fragile&lt;br /&gt;on est rien qu'une fois&lt;br /&gt;c'est fragile&lt;br /&gt;ça claque entre les doigts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai compté les morts et ça m'a donné&lt;br /&gt;l'envers des décors alors je suis né&lt;br /&gt;Si je suis pas né, je cours encore&lt;br /&gt;sans me retourner, à la vie à la mort&lt;br /&gt;Si je suis né, j'aurai bien aimé&lt;br /&gt;pouvoir y goûter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai craché mon corps sur la chaussée&lt;br /&gt;Pourquoi je suis mort si je suis né&lt;br /&gt;Si je suis encore, je m'en suis allé&lt;br /&gt;comme je suis mort, et bien je suis né&lt;br /&gt;Si je suis né j'aurai bien aimé&lt;br /&gt;m'oublier&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C'est fragile&lt;br /&gt;l'extansion de tes bras&lt;br /&gt;c'est fragile&lt;br /&gt;les cordes de ta voix&lt;br /&gt;c'est fragile&lt;br /&gt;le tissu de nos peaux&lt;br /&gt;c'est fragile&lt;br /&gt;le courant de nos os&lt;br /&gt;c'est fragile&lt;br /&gt;quand tu ne dis qu'un mot&lt;br /&gt;c'est fragile&lt;br /&gt;les ailes des oiseaux&lt;br /&gt;c'est fragile&lt;br /&gt;on est rien qu'une fois&lt;br /&gt;c'est fragile&lt;br /&gt;ça claque entre les doigts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-7828526754055819109?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/7828526754055819109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/les-ttes-raides-fragile-fragile.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/7828526754055819109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/7828526754055819109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/les-ttes-raides-fragile-fragile.html' title='Les Têtes Raides - Fragile&lt;br&gt;Fragile'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-5369360073569138490</id><published>2007-06-17T15:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T17:22:15.065+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emilie Simon'/><title type='text'>Emilie Simon - DesertDésert</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/cI_nkXUpvJk"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/cI_nkXUpvJk" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emilie Simon - Desert&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my love&lt;br /&gt;My soulmate, I'm counting the days, I'm counting the hours&lt;br /&gt;I would like to draw you in a desert&lt;br /&gt;The desert of my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my love&lt;br /&gt;The texture of your voice makes me happy&lt;br /&gt;Let me draw you in a desert&lt;br /&gt;The desert of my heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the night sometimes,&lt;br /&gt;when I look through the window&lt;br /&gt;I wait for you and I sink&lt;br /&gt;In a desert,&lt;br /&gt;In my desert,&lt;br /&gt;That's all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my love&lt;br /&gt;My heart is heavy, I'm counting the hours, I'm counting the days&lt;br /&gt;I would like to draw you in a desert,&lt;br /&gt;The desert of my heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my love&lt;br /&gt;I forfeit my turn, I left the surroundings&lt;br /&gt;I'm leaving you, that's all...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the night sometimes&lt;br /&gt;when I looked through the window&lt;br /&gt;I was waiting for you and I sink&lt;br /&gt;Throwing away my sad ashes,&lt;br /&gt;That's all...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Emilie Simon - Désert&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Oh mon amour&lt;br /&gt;Mon âme sœur, je compte les jours, je compte les heures&lt;br /&gt;Je voudrais te dessiner dans un désert&lt;br /&gt;Le désert de mon cœur&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh mon amour&lt;br /&gt;Ton grain de voix fait mon bonheur&lt;br /&gt;A chaque pas&lt;br /&gt;Laisse moi te dessiner dans un désert&lt;br /&gt;Le désert de mon cœur&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dans la nuit parfois,&lt;br /&gt;Le nez à la fenêtre&lt;br /&gt;Je t’attends et je sombre&lt;br /&gt;Dans un désert,&lt;br /&gt;Dans mon désert&lt;br /&gt;Voilà…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh mon amour&lt;br /&gt;Mon cœur est lourd, je compte les heures, je compte les jours&lt;br /&gt;Je voudrais te dessiner dans un désert,&lt;br /&gt;Le désert de mon cœur&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh mon amour&lt;br /&gt;Je passe mon tour, j’ai déserté les alentours&lt;br /&gt;Je te quitte, voilà c’est tout…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dans la nuit parfois,&lt;br /&gt;Le nez à la fenêtre&lt;br /&gt;J’attendais et je sombre&lt;br /&gt;Jetez au vent mes tristes cendres,&lt;br /&gt;Voilà…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-5369360073569138490?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/5369360073569138490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/emilie-simon-desert-dsert.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/5369360073569138490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/5369360073569138490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/emilie-simon-desert-dsert.html' title='Emilie Simon - Desert&lt;br&gt;Désert'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-1606225590436965617</id><published>2007-06-17T15:13:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T18:30:01.480+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emilie Simon'/><title type='text'>Emilie Simon - Alicia</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Xj5UvNnRVTo"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Xj5UvNnRVTo" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emilie Simon - Alicia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Alicia composes&lt;br /&gt;A bouquet of roses&lt;br /&gt;The world is suspended&lt;br /&gt;To her lips, with good reason&lt;br /&gt;They are pink&lt;br /&gt;unexpected&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Alicia falls asleep&lt;br /&gt;Carnivorous plants&lt;br /&gt;Look after her sleep&lt;br /&gt;But in the ivy arms&lt;br /&gt;of Alicia&lt;br /&gt;We don't wake up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alicia is sleeping&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alicia is sleeping&lt;br /&gt;A bouquet of violets&lt;br /&gt;Rattlesnakes&lt;br /&gt;Dance in her mind&lt;br /&gt;A gentle venom&lt;br /&gt;A smell of jasmine&lt;br /&gt;On the pale cheeks&lt;br /&gt;of a vegetable girl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Alicia composes&lt;br /&gt;A bouquet of roses&lt;br /&gt;The world is suspended&lt;br /&gt;But in the ivy arms&lt;br /&gt;of Alicia&lt;br /&gt;We don't wake up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Emilie Simon - Alicia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Quand Alicia compose&lt;br /&gt;Un bouquet de roses&lt;br /&gt;Le monde est suspendu&lt;br /&gt;A ses lèvres et pour cause&lt;br /&gt;Elles sont d'un rose&lt;br /&gt;Inattendu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quand Alicia s'endort&lt;br /&gt;Des plantes carnivores&lt;br /&gt;Veillent sur son sommeil&lt;br /&gt;Mais dans les bras de lierre&lt;br /&gt;D'Alicia&lt;br /&gt;On ne se réveille pas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alicia dort (x4)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alicia dort&lt;br /&gt;Un bouquet de violettes&lt;br /&gt;Des serpents à sonnette&lt;br /&gt;Dancent dans sa tête&lt;br /&gt;Un doux venin&lt;br /&gt;Une odeur de jasmin&lt;br /&gt;Sur les joues pâles&lt;br /&gt;D'une fille végétale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quand Alicia compose&lt;br /&gt;Un bouquet de roses&lt;br /&gt;Le monde est suspendu&lt;br /&gt;Mais dans les bras de lierre&lt;br /&gt;D'Alicia&lt;br /&gt;On ne se reveille pas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-1606225590436965617?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/1606225590436965617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/emilie-simon-alicia.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1606225590436965617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1606225590436965617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/emilie-simon-alicia.html' title='Emilie Simon - Alicia'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-1908520834710049999</id><published>2007-06-17T15:05:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-15T16:55:13.511+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emilie Simon'/><title type='text'>Emilie Simon - The Old LoverLe vieil amant</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/56dy-P3i2SM"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/56dy-P3i2SM" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My love I thought&lt;br /&gt;With naivete&lt;br /&gt;That one lonely blade of lily of the valley&lt;br /&gt;would bring you back&lt;br /&gt;Then I regained&lt;br /&gt;One or two sonnets&lt;br /&gt;To recall you&lt;br /&gt;To recall you&lt;br /&gt;To me my love&lt;br /&gt;Through this beautifull day&lt;br /&gt;Of Spring I let drop&lt;br /&gt;Near your feet&lt;br /&gt;A lonely blade of lily of the valley&lt;br /&gt;But it shriveled up&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for this kiss&lt;br /&gt;That will never come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The month of May&lt;br /&gt;made fun of me&lt;br /&gt;This year&lt;br /&gt;I let flow too much emotion&lt;br /&gt;This time the month of May&lt;br /&gt;Teased me&lt;br /&gt;This year&lt;br /&gt;I let flow too much emotion&lt;br /&gt;This time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The time is gone&lt;br /&gt;It didn't take its time&lt;br /&gt;Here I am waiting for you&lt;br /&gt;Like an old suitor&lt;br /&gt;Here I am regretting&lt;br /&gt;Facing the few srubs&lt;br /&gt;Of an old love story&lt;br /&gt;Nonsensical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My love I thought&lt;br /&gt;With naivety&lt;br /&gt;That one lonely blade of lily of the valley&lt;br /&gt;will bring you back&lt;br /&gt;Then I regained/found again&lt;br /&gt;One or two sonnets&lt;br /&gt;That you never like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The month of May&lt;br /&gt;made fun of me&lt;br /&gt;This year&lt;br /&gt;I let flow too much emotion&lt;br /&gt;This time the month of May&lt;br /&gt;Teased me&lt;br /&gt;This year&lt;br /&gt;I let flow too much emotion&lt;br /&gt;This time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted, I confess,&lt;br /&gt;To dance cheek to cheek&lt;br /&gt;I confess I was dreaming&lt;br /&gt;Make you whirl&lt;br /&gt;Breath this fresh air&lt;br /&gt;Watch glow&lt;br /&gt;The face of a love&lt;br /&gt;That never grows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My love I thought&lt;br /&gt;With naivete&lt;br /&gt;That one lonely blade of lily of the valley&lt;br /&gt;will bring you back&lt;br /&gt;Then I regained&lt;br /&gt;One or two sonnets&lt;br /&gt;I know, you don't like sonnets&lt;br /&gt;I know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The month of May&lt;br /&gt;made fun of me&lt;br /&gt;This year&lt;br /&gt;I let flow too much emotion&lt;br /&gt;This time the month of May&lt;br /&gt;Teased me&lt;br /&gt;This year&lt;br /&gt;I let flow too much emotion&lt;br /&gt;This time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Mon amour j'ai pensé&lt;br /&gt;Avec naïveté&lt;br /&gt;Qu'un brin seul de muguet&lt;br /&gt;Pouvait te ramener&lt;br /&gt;Alors j'ai retrouvé&lt;br /&gt;Un ou deux vieux sonnets&lt;br /&gt;Pour te rappeler&lt;br /&gt;Pour te rappeler&lt;br /&gt;A moi mon amour&lt;br /&gt;A travers ce beau jour&lt;br /&gt;De printemps j'ai laissé&lt;br /&gt;Près de tes pieds tomber&lt;br /&gt;Un brin seul de muguet&lt;br /&gt;Mais il s'est desséché&lt;br /&gt;Attendant ce baiser&lt;br /&gt;Qui ne viendra jamais&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Le mois de mai&lt;br /&gt;S'est joué de moi&lt;br /&gt;Cette année&lt;br /&gt;J'ai laissé couler trop d'émois&lt;br /&gt;Cette fois le mois mai&lt;br /&gt;S'est moqué de moi&lt;br /&gt;Cette année&lt;br /&gt;J'ai laissé couler trop d'émois&lt;br /&gt;Cette fois&lt;br /&gt;Cette fois&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il est parti le temps&lt;br /&gt;Il n'a pas pris son temps&lt;br /&gt;Me voilà qui t'attends&lt;br /&gt;Comme un vieux prétendant&lt;br /&gt;Me voilà qui regrette&lt;br /&gt;Devant ces quelques miettes&lt;br /&gt;Une vielle amourette&lt;br /&gt;Qui n'a ni queue ni tête&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mon amour j'ai pensé&lt;br /&gt;Avec naïveté&lt;br /&gt;Qu'un brin seul de muguet&lt;br /&gt;Pouvait te ramener&lt;br /&gt;Alors j'ai retrouvé&lt;br /&gt;Un ou deux vieux sonnets&lt;br /&gt;Que tu n'as jamais aimé&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Le mois de mai&lt;br /&gt;S'est joué de moi&lt;br /&gt;Cette année&lt;br /&gt;J'ai laissé couler trop d'émois&lt;br /&gt;Cette fois le mois mai&lt;br /&gt;S'est moqué de moi&lt;br /&gt;Cette année&lt;br /&gt;J'ai laisser couler trop d'émois&lt;br /&gt;Cette fois&lt;br /&gt;Cette fois&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je voulais je l'avoue&lt;br /&gt;Danser joue contre joue&lt;br /&gt;Je l'avoue je rêvais&lt;br /&gt;De te faire tournoyer&lt;br /&gt;Respirer cet air frais&lt;br /&gt;Regarder rayonner&lt;br /&gt;Le visage d'un amour&lt;br /&gt;Qui n'a pas vu le jour&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mon amour j'ai pensé&lt;br /&gt;Avec naïveté&lt;br /&gt;Qu'un brin seul de muguet&lt;br /&gt;Pouvait te ramener&lt;br /&gt;Alors j'ai retrouvé&lt;br /&gt;Un ou deux vieux sonnets&lt;br /&gt;Je sais tu n'aimes pas les sonnets&lt;br /&gt;Je sais&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Le mois de mai&lt;br /&gt;S'est joué de moi&lt;br /&gt;Cette année&lt;br /&gt;J'ai laisser couler trop d'émois&lt;br /&gt;Cette fois le mois mai&lt;br /&gt;S'est moqué de moi&lt;br /&gt;Cette année&lt;br /&gt;J'ai laisser couler trop d'émois&lt;br /&gt;Cette fois&lt;br /&gt;Cette fois&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-1908520834710049999?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/1908520834710049999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/emilie-simon-old-lover-le-vieil-amant.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1908520834710049999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1908520834710049999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/emilie-simon-old-lover-le-vieil-amant.html' title='Emilie Simon - The Old Lover&lt;br&gt;Le vieil amant'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-1359706457813312209</id><published>2007-06-17T14:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-10T16:09:34.096+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Québécois'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ariane Moffatt'/><title type='text'>Ariane Moffatt - HazardHasard</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VBcHA7d9O94" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ariane Moffatt - Hazard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My soul is healed at last&lt;br /&gt;From all the harm&lt;br /&gt;I've transmitted to it&lt;br /&gt;Perchance...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My soul is healed at last&lt;br /&gt;From all the harm&lt;br /&gt;I've transmitted to it&lt;br /&gt;By love...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By any chance of life&lt;br /&gt;By the love of chance&lt;br /&gt;By the hazard of love (in french the word hasard both hazard/chance in English)&lt;br /&gt;By the love of the life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My soul is healed at last&lt;br /&gt;From all the harm&lt;br /&gt;I've transmitted to it&lt;br /&gt;Without knowing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My soul found a shelter at last&lt;br /&gt;Away from these blasts&lt;br /&gt;Me too, I pulled through&lt;br /&gt;Like a flower of evil...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;Mon âme est enfin guérie&lt;br /&gt;De tout le mal&lt;br /&gt;Que je lui ai transmis&lt;br /&gt;Par hasard...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mon âme est enfin guérie&lt;br /&gt;De tout le mal&lt;br /&gt;Que je lui ai transmis&lt;br /&gt;Par amour...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Refrain:&lt;br /&gt;Par le hasard de la vie&lt;br /&gt;Pour l'amour du hasard&lt;br /&gt;Par le hasard de l'amour&lt;br /&gt;Pour l'amour de la vie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mon âme est enfin guérie&lt;br /&gt;De tout ce mal&lt;br /&gt;Que je lui ai transmis&lt;br /&gt;Sans savoir...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mon âme est enfin à l'abris&lt;br /&gt;De ces raffales&lt;br /&gt;Moi aussi j'en suis sortie&lt;br /&gt;Comme une fleur du mal...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Refrain X2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ouah!...ah...ah... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-1359706457813312209?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/1359706457813312209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/ariane-moffatt-hazard-hasard.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1359706457813312209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1359706457813312209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/ariane-moffatt-hazard-hasard.html' title='Ariane Moffatt - Hazard&lt;br&gt;Hasard'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-7156898282551005725</id><published>2007-06-17T14:29:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T12:14:06.631Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pauline Croze'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Pauline Croze - You're BeautifulT'es beau</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Yfw7kfcTifQ&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Yfw7kfcTifQ&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pauline Croze - You're Beautiful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're beautiful,&lt;br /&gt;You're beautiful because you're brave&lt;br /&gt;To look deep into the eyes&lt;br /&gt;Of the one who challenges you to be happy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're beautiful,&lt;br /&gt;You're beautiful as a silent scream,&lt;br /&gt;Strong as a precious metal,&lt;br /&gt;who fights to heal its bruises,&lt;br /&gt;It is like an old tune,&lt;br /&gt;A few notes in torment,&lt;br /&gt;That force my heart,&lt;br /&gt;That force my joy,&lt;br /&gt;When I think of you,&lt;br /&gt;Now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is no good,&lt;br /&gt;It is no good saying to myself that it is better this way,&lt;br /&gt;Even if it still hurts,&lt;br /&gt;I don't have any silent refuge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is beautiful,&lt;br /&gt;It is beautiful because it is stormy,&lt;br /&gt;With this weather I know very little,&lt;br /&gt;The words that stay at the corner of my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;It is like an old tune,&lt;br /&gt;A few notes in torment,&lt;br /&gt;That force my heart,&lt;br /&gt;That force my joy,&lt;br /&gt;When I think of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You, you're leaving the stage&lt;br /&gt;Without a weapon and without hatred&lt;br /&gt;I'm afraid to forget,&lt;br /&gt;I'm afraid to accept,&lt;br /&gt;I'm afraid of the living,&lt;br /&gt;Now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're beautiful...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pauline Croze - T'es beau&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T'es beau,&lt;br /&gt;T'es beau parce que t'es courageux,&lt;br /&gt;De regarder dans le fond des yeux,&lt;br /&gt;Celui qui te défie d'être heureux.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T'es beau,&lt;br /&gt;T'es beau comme un cri silencieux,&lt;br /&gt;Vaillant comme un métal précieux,&lt;br /&gt;Qui se bat pour guérir de ses bleus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C'est comme une rengaine,&lt;br /&gt;Quelques notes en peine,&lt;br /&gt;Qui forcent mon coeur,&lt;br /&gt;Qui forcent ma joie,&lt;br /&gt;Quand je pense a toi,&lt;br /&gt;A présent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai beau,&lt;br /&gt;J'ai beau me dire qu'au fond c'est mieux,&lt;br /&gt;Même si c'est encore douloureux,&lt;br /&gt;Je n'ai pas de recoin silencieux.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C'est beau,&lt;br /&gt;C'est beau parce que c'est orageux,&lt;br /&gt;Avec ce temps je connais peu,&lt;br /&gt;Les mots qui traînent au coin de mes yeux.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C'est comme une rengaine,&lt;br /&gt;Quelques notes en peine,&lt;br /&gt;Qui forcent mon coeur,&lt;br /&gt;Qui forcent ma joie&lt;br /&gt;Quand je pense à toi,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toi qui sors de scène,&lt;br /&gt;Sans armes et sans haine,&lt;br /&gt;J'ai peur d'oublier,&lt;br /&gt;J'ai peur d'accepter,&lt;br /&gt;J'ai peur des vivants,&lt;br /&gt;A présent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T'es beau...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-7156898282551005725?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/7156898282551005725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/pauline-croze-youre-beautiful-tes-beau.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/7156898282551005725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/7156898282551005725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/pauline-croze-youre-beautiful-tes-beau.html' title='Pauline Croze - You&apos;re Beautiful&lt;br&gt;T&apos;es beau'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-5927401654380198909</id><published>2007-06-17T14:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-06T18:30:24.439+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jeanne Cherhal'/><title type='text'>Jeanne Cherhal - My Life AloftMa vie en l'air</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gaOqEGM4DRw"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gaOqEGM4DRw" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything was shaping up to be so different&lt;br /&gt;Everything seemed a little bigger to us&lt;br /&gt;We should have woken up&lt;br /&gt;On the same pillow&lt;br /&gt;Without ever getting bored&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when comes the boredom&lt;br /&gt;While it settles&lt;br /&gt;You fall from your pedestal&lt;br /&gt;And our caresses and our nice habits&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly loose altitude&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you follow me&lt;br /&gt;I flee from you&lt;br /&gt;You flee from me&lt;br /&gt;I follow you&lt;br /&gt;This is life&lt;br /&gt;And I through it aloft&lt;br /&gt;While it is time&lt;br /&gt;It is time&lt;br /&gt;While it is still time&lt;br /&gt;To change&lt;br /&gt;There I have a change of air&lt;br /&gt;If you follow me&lt;br /&gt;I flee from you&lt;br /&gt;You flee from me&lt;br /&gt;I follow you&lt;br /&gt;This is my life&lt;br /&gt;And I want it aloft&lt;br /&gt;Our love didn't get through winter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dreamt so much about seeing you again&lt;br /&gt;I knew so many hellos for one night&lt;br /&gt;Who could have believe that living together&lt;br /&gt;We would have become old&lt;br /&gt;Before the time, before them&lt;br /&gt;But one night on the stairway&lt;br /&gt;I saw love on a floor&lt;br /&gt;and its smile&lt;br /&gt;His old sweater, his habits&lt;br /&gt;suddenly took some altitude&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Tout s'annonçait si différent&lt;br /&gt;Tout nous semblait un peu plus grand&lt;br /&gt;On aurait dû se réveiller&lt;br /&gt;Sur le même oreiller&lt;br /&gt;Sans jamais se lasser&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais quand vient l'ennui&lt;br /&gt;Blanc il s'installe&lt;br /&gt;Tu tombes de ton piédestal&lt;br /&gt;Et nos caresses et nos jolies habitudes&lt;br /&gt;Perdent soudain de l'altitude&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si tu me suis&lt;br /&gt;Je te fuis&lt;br /&gt;Tu me fuis&lt;br /&gt;Je te suis&lt;br /&gt;C'est ma vie&lt;br /&gt;Et je l'envoie en l'air&lt;br /&gt;Tant qu'il est temps&lt;br /&gt;Qu'il est temps&lt;br /&gt;Tant qu'il est encore temps&lt;br /&gt;De changer&lt;br /&gt;Voilà je change d'air&lt;br /&gt;Si tu me fuis&lt;br /&gt;Je te suis&lt;br /&gt;Tu me suis&lt;br /&gt;Je te fuis&lt;br /&gt;C'est ma vie&lt;br /&gt;Et je la veux en l'air&lt;br /&gt;Notre amour n'a pas passé l'hiver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'en ai rêvé de te revoir&lt;br /&gt;J'en ai connu des coucous d'un soir&lt;br /&gt;Qui aurait cru qu'à vivre à deux&lt;br /&gt;On allait dev'nir vieux&lt;br /&gt;Avant l'heure avant eux&lt;br /&gt;Mais un soir en prenant l'escalier&lt;br /&gt;J'ai vu l'amour sur le palier&lt;br /&gt;Et son sourire&lt;br /&gt;Son vieux pull ses habitudes&lt;br /&gt;Ont pris soudain de l'altitude&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-5927401654380198909?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/5927401654380198909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/jeanne-cherhal-my-life-aloft-ma-vie-en.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/5927401654380198909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/5927401654380198909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/jeanne-cherhal-my-life-aloft-ma-vie-en.html' title='Jeanne Cherhal - My Life Aloft&lt;br&gt;Ma vie en l&apos;air'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-8784130654038224535</id><published>2007-06-17T13:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-04T12:20:05.826+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Les Têtes Raides'/><title type='text'>Les Têtes Raides - I SingJe chante</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Les Têtes Raides - I Sing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The emergent opaline&lt;br /&gt;Of a night already dead&lt;br /&gt;Given to the past&lt;br /&gt;The nights will sweep out&lt;br /&gt;The stacked errors&lt;br /&gt;In the bottom of our bellies&lt;br /&gt;From now on&lt;br /&gt;I sing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The burning rises up&lt;br /&gt;And knocks at the door&lt;br /&gt;Of our lives under construction&lt;br /&gt;The garbage collectors will collect&lt;br /&gt;Our ranked collections&lt;br /&gt;Of unknown treasures&lt;br /&gt;From now on&lt;br /&gt;I sing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At noon, this is the sandwich&lt;br /&gt;At the sidewalk cafe&lt;br /&gt;On the Champs-Epuises (it's a play on the name of the Champs-Elysees, epuises means exhausted)&lt;br /&gt;And then it's already&lt;br /&gt;A blocked up story&lt;br /&gt;In the folds of our dreams&lt;br /&gt;From now on&lt;br /&gt;I sing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At six the coiffeur&lt;br /&gt;Will climb the hill&lt;br /&gt;It's wind gaining&lt;br /&gt;We will drink without scruples&lt;br /&gt;Staying up until dusk&lt;br /&gt;We're waiting for the ghosts&lt;br /&gt;From now on&lt;br /&gt;I sing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lights of the city&lt;br /&gt;Caress the phobias&lt;br /&gt;Of our forsaken shadows&lt;br /&gt;The metropolitan&lt;br /&gt;Will forget for sure&lt;br /&gt;The woodlouses (insignificant people)&lt;br /&gt;From now on&lt;br /&gt;I sing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In one hour now&lt;br /&gt;We will leave the parking lot&lt;br /&gt;Of the traced out borders&lt;br /&gt;In the wind that intoxicates us&lt;br /&gt;Where we can see&lt;br /&gt;The waves that roll us&lt;br /&gt;Then we will go to sleep&lt;br /&gt;Like the others&lt;br /&gt;From now on&lt;br /&gt;I sing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Les Têtes Raides - Je Chante&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;L'opaline naissante&lt;br /&gt;d'une nuit déjà morte&lt;br /&gt;offerte au passé&lt;br /&gt;les nuits balaieront&lt;br /&gt;les erreurs entassées&lt;br /&gt;dans le bas de nos ventres&lt;br /&gt;à partir de maintenant&lt;br /&gt;je chante&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Le brûlant s'est levé&lt;br /&gt;et frappe à la porte&lt;br /&gt;de nos vies en chantier&lt;br /&gt;les zéboueurs zéboueront&lt;br /&gt;nos collectes classées&lt;br /&gt;des trésors qu'on ignore&lt;br /&gt;à partir de maintenant&lt;br /&gt;je chante&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A midi c'est l'sandwich&lt;br /&gt;aux terrasses des cafés&lt;br /&gt;sur les champs-épuisés&lt;br /&gt;et plus tard c'est déjà&lt;br /&gt;une histoire encombrée&lt;br /&gt;dans les plis de nos rêves&lt;br /&gt;à partir de maintenant&lt;br /&gt;je chante&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A six heures le coiffeur&lt;br /&gt;taillera la colline&lt;br /&gt;c'est du vent de gagné&lt;br /&gt;on boira sans scrupule&lt;br /&gt;pendu au crépuscule&lt;br /&gt;on attend les fantômes&lt;br /&gt;à partir de maintenant&lt;br /&gt;je chante&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les lumières de la ville&lt;br /&gt;caressent les phobies&lt;br /&gt;de nos ombres esseulées&lt;br /&gt;le métropolitain&lt;br /&gt;oubliera c'est certain&lt;br /&gt;les cloportes&lt;br /&gt;à partir de maintenant&lt;br /&gt;je chante&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dans une heure maintenant&lt;br /&gt;on quittera le parking&lt;br /&gt;des frontières tracées&lt;br /&gt;dans le vent qui nous saoule&lt;br /&gt;où l'on aperçoit&lt;br /&gt;les vagues qui nous roulent&lt;br /&gt;puis on s'endormira&lt;br /&gt;comme les autres&lt;br /&gt;à partir de maintenant&lt;br /&gt;je chante&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-8784130654038224535?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/8784130654038224535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/les-ttes-raides-i-sing-je-chante.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/8784130654038224535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/8784130654038224535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/les-ttes-raides-i-sing-je-chante.html' title='Les Têtes Raides - I Sing&lt;br&gt;Je chante'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-6433748563963963409</id><published>2007-06-17T13:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T17:08:52.408+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Olivia Ruiz'/><title type='text'>Olivia Ruiz - The Chocolate WomanLa Femme Chocolat</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/p1JdNocbGAo"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/p1JdNocbGAo" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olivia Ruiz - The Chocolate Woman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carve my hips with an axe&lt;br /&gt;I ate too much chocolate&lt;br /&gt;Crunch my skin, please&lt;br /&gt;Crunch my bones, if needed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is time for big changes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the verge of my tiny little tits&lt;br /&gt;are insinuating, sharped and plumped,&lt;br /&gt;Two hazelnuts, crac! You ate them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is time for big changes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the verge of my slightly openned lips&lt;br /&gt;is growing a raspberry bush red and silvered&lt;br /&gt;Could you kiss me to cut it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knead my hips with your kisses&lt;br /&gt;I'm becoming the chocolate woman&lt;br /&gt;Let my Nutella hips melt&lt;br /&gt;The blood flowing in me is hot chocolate...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day I will take off&lt;br /&gt;through the sky by keeping on  pump up...&lt;br /&gt;And I will yawn lightning&lt;br /&gt;A comet planted  between the teeth&lt;br /&gt;I will transform myself into the chocolate woman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carve my hips with an axe&lt;br /&gt;I ate too much chocolate...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olivia Ruiz - La Femme Chocolat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taille-moi les hanches à la hache&lt;br /&gt;J'ai trop mangé de chocolat&lt;br /&gt;Croque moi la peau, s'il-te-plaît&lt;br /&gt;Croque moi les os, s'il le faut&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C'est le temps des grandes métamorphoses&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Au bout de mes tout petits seins&lt;br /&gt;S'insinuent, pointues et dodues&lt;br /&gt;Deux noisettes, crac! Tu les manges&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C'est le temps des grandes métamorphoses&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Au bout de mes lèvres entrouvertes&lt;br /&gt;pousse un framboisier rouge argenté&lt;br /&gt;Pourrais-tu m'embrasser pour me le couper...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pétris-moi les hanches de baisers&lt;br /&gt;Je deviens la femme chocolat&lt;br /&gt;Laisse fondre mes hanches Nutella&lt;br /&gt;Le sang qui coule en moi c'est du chocolat chaud...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un jour je vais m'envoler&lt;br /&gt;A travers le ciel à force de gonfler...&lt;br /&gt;Et je baillerai des éclairs&lt;br /&gt;Une comète plantée entre les dents&lt;br /&gt;Mais sur terre, en attendant&lt;br /&gt;Je me transformerai en la femme chocolat...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taille-moi les hanches à la hache&lt;br /&gt;J'ai trop mangé de chocolat...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-6433748563963963409?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/6433748563963963409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/olivia-ruiz-chocolate-woman-la-femme.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/6433748563963963409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/6433748563963963409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/olivia-ruiz-chocolate-woman-la-femme.html' title='Olivia Ruiz - The Chocolate Woman&lt;br&gt;La Femme Chocolat'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-1405956076356826254</id><published>2007-06-17T13:14:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T18:34:47.287+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='La Tordue'/><title type='text'>La Tordue - I wouldn't like to dieJe voudrais pas crever</title><content type='html'>La Tordue - I wouldn't like to die (originaly a poem of  Boris Vian)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't like to die&lt;br /&gt;Before knowing&lt;br /&gt;The black dogs of Mexico&lt;br /&gt;Who sleep without dreaming&lt;br /&gt;The bottom naked monkeys&lt;br /&gt;Devourers of the tropics&lt;br /&gt;The silver spiders&lt;br /&gt;With their nests bulging with bubbles&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't like to die&lt;br /&gt;Before knowing if the moon&lt;br /&gt;That round like a coin&lt;br /&gt;Has a sharped side&lt;br /&gt;If the sun is cold&lt;br /&gt;If the four seasons&lt;br /&gt;Are really only four&lt;br /&gt;Without trying&lt;br /&gt;To wear a dress&lt;br /&gt;On the grand boulevards&lt;br /&gt;Without watching&lt;br /&gt;In a manhole&lt;br /&gt;Without putting my dick&lt;br /&gt;In some weird places&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't like to end&lt;br /&gt;Whithout knowing the leprosy&lt;br /&gt;Or the seven diseases&lt;br /&gt;That you can get over there&lt;br /&gt;Neither the Good or the Bad&lt;br /&gt;Would make me sad&lt;br /&gt;If I knew&lt;br /&gt;That when I will get christened&lt;br /&gt;Z will be there too&lt;br /&gt;Everything I know&lt;br /&gt;Everything I appreciate&lt;br /&gt;That I know I like&lt;br /&gt;The green flour of the sea&lt;br /&gt;Where waltz the blades of seaweed&lt;br /&gt;Above the wavy sand&lt;br /&gt;The toasted grass of June&lt;br /&gt;The crispy ground&lt;br /&gt;The smell of the conifers&lt;br /&gt;And the kisses of the one&lt;br /&gt;who this who that&lt;br /&gt;The beauty who's coming&lt;br /&gt;My bear cub, the Ursula&lt;br /&gt;I woulnd't like to die&lt;br /&gt;Before threadbaring&lt;br /&gt;Her lips with my lips&lt;br /&gt;Her body with my hands&lt;br /&gt;The rest with my eyes&lt;br /&gt;I won't say anything more, I have to&lt;br /&gt;stay respectful&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't like to die&lt;br /&gt;Before were invented&lt;br /&gt;The eternal roses&lt;br /&gt;The day of two hours&lt;br /&gt;The sea to the montain&lt;br /&gt;The montain to the sea&lt;br /&gt;The end of pain&lt;br /&gt;The newspapers in color&lt;br /&gt;Every child happy&lt;br /&gt;And so many things more&lt;br /&gt;who are sleeping in the skulls&lt;br /&gt;Of genius engineers&lt;br /&gt;Of jolly gardeners&lt;br /&gt;Of worried socialists&lt;br /&gt;Of polite urban planners&lt;br /&gt;And of pensive thinkers&lt;br /&gt;So many things to see&lt;br /&gt;To see and to hear&lt;br /&gt;To seek into the dark&lt;br /&gt;And me, I see the end&lt;br /&gt;Who mills around and who's coming&lt;br /&gt;With its dumpy face&lt;br /&gt;Who's openning its arms&lt;br /&gt;Of a gimpy frog&lt;br /&gt;I woulnd't like to die&lt;br /&gt;No Mister, No Madam,&lt;br /&gt;Before I have a go at&lt;br /&gt;the flavor that torments me&lt;br /&gt;the strongest flavor&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't like to die&lt;br /&gt;before I have tasted&lt;br /&gt;the flavor of death...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;La Tordue - Je voudrais pas crever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je voudrais pas crever&lt;br /&gt;Avant d'avoir connu&lt;br /&gt;Les chiens noirs du Mexique&lt;br /&gt;Qui dorment sans rêver&lt;br /&gt;Les singes à cul nu&lt;br /&gt;Dévoreurs de tropiques&lt;br /&gt;Les araignées d'argent&lt;br /&gt;Au nid truffé de bulles&lt;br /&gt;Je voudrais pas crever&lt;br /&gt;Sans savoir si la lune&lt;br /&gt;Sous son faux air de thune&lt;br /&gt;A un coté pointu&lt;br /&gt;Si le soleil est froid&lt;br /&gt;Si les quatre saisons&lt;br /&gt;Ne sont vraiment que quatre&lt;br /&gt;Sans avoir essayé&lt;br /&gt;De porter une robe&lt;br /&gt;Sur les grands boulevards&lt;br /&gt;Sans avoir regardé&lt;br /&gt;Dans un regard d'égout&lt;br /&gt;Sans avoir mis mon zobe&lt;br /&gt;Dans des coinstots bizarres&lt;br /&gt;Je voudrais pas finir&lt;br /&gt;Sans connaître la lèpre&lt;br /&gt;Ou les sept maladies&lt;br /&gt;Qu'on attrape là-bas&lt;br /&gt;Le bon ni le mauvais&lt;br /&gt;Ne me feraient de peine&lt;br /&gt;Si si si je savais&lt;br /&gt;Que j'en aurai l'étrenne&lt;br /&gt;Et il y a z aussi&lt;br /&gt;Tout ce que je connais&lt;br /&gt;Tout ce que j'apprécie&lt;br /&gt;Que je sais qui me plaît&lt;br /&gt;Le fond vert de la mer&lt;br /&gt;Où valsent les brins d'algues&lt;br /&gt;Sur le sable ondulé&lt;br /&gt;L'herbe grillée de juin&lt;br /&gt;La terre qui craquelle&lt;br /&gt;L'odeur des conifères&lt;br /&gt;Et les baisers de celle&lt;br /&gt;Que ceci que cela&lt;br /&gt;La belle que voilà&lt;br /&gt;Mon Ourson, l'Ursula&lt;br /&gt;Je voudrais pas crever&lt;br /&gt;Avant d'avoir usé&lt;br /&gt;Sa bouche avec ma bouche&lt;br /&gt;Son corps avec mes mains&lt;br /&gt;Le reste avec mes yeux&lt;br /&gt;J'en dis pas plus faut bien&lt;br /&gt;Rester révérencieux&lt;br /&gt;Je voudrais pas mourir&lt;br /&gt;Sans qu'on ait inventé&lt;br /&gt;Les roses éternelles&lt;br /&gt;La journée de deux heures&lt;br /&gt;La mer à la montagne&lt;br /&gt;La montagne à la mer&lt;br /&gt;La fin de la douleur&lt;br /&gt;Les journaux en couleur&lt;br /&gt;Tous les enfants contents&lt;br /&gt;Et tant de trucs encore&lt;br /&gt;Qui dorment dans les crânes&lt;br /&gt;Des géniaux ingénieurs&lt;br /&gt;Des jardiniers joviaux&lt;br /&gt;Des soucieux socialistes&lt;br /&gt;Des urbains urbanistes&lt;br /&gt;Et des pensifs penseurs&lt;br /&gt;Tant de choses à voir&lt;br /&gt;A voir et à z-entendre&lt;br /&gt;Tant de temps à attendre&lt;br /&gt;A chercher dans le noir&lt;br /&gt;Et moi je vois la fin&lt;br /&gt;Qui grouille et qui s'amène&lt;br /&gt;Avec sa gueule moche&lt;br /&gt;Et qui m'ouvre ses bras&lt;br /&gt;De grenouille bancroche&lt;br /&gt;Je voudrais pas crever&lt;br /&gt;Non monsieur non madame&lt;br /&gt;Avant d'avoir tâté&lt;br /&gt;Le goût qui me tourmente&lt;br /&gt;Le goût qu'est le plus fort&lt;br /&gt;Je voudrais pas crever&lt;br /&gt;Avant d'avoir goûté&lt;br /&gt;La saveur de la mort...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-1405956076356826254?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/1405956076356826254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/la-tordue-i-wouldnt-like-to-die-je.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1405956076356826254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1405956076356826254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/la-tordue-i-wouldnt-like-to-die-je.html' title='La Tordue - I wouldn&apos;t like to die&lt;br&gt;Je voudrais pas crever'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-6690066272839707770</id><published>2007-06-16T14:24:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-06-24T18:10:47.487+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vanessa Paradis'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Vanessa Paradis - The Whirlpool of LifeLe tourbillon de la vie</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_ZopXqnOlYw"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_ZopXqnOlYw" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;She had rings on every finger&lt;br /&gt;tons of  bracelets around her wrists&lt;br /&gt;And also she used to sing with a voice&lt;br /&gt;that, right away, seduced me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had eyes, eyes like opal&lt;br /&gt;that fascinated me, that facinated me&lt;br /&gt;The oval of her pale face&lt;br /&gt;of a femme fatale who was fatal to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We met, we recognized,&lt;br /&gt;we lost sight of each other, we lost sight again&lt;br /&gt;we meet again, we heated up each other,&lt;br /&gt;then we separated&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each one is gone&lt;br /&gt;in the whirl of life&lt;br /&gt;I've seen her one day at night, ouch!&lt;br /&gt;It's been a long time now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the sound of banjos I recognized her&lt;br /&gt;this strange smile that was so appealing to me&lt;br /&gt;Her voice so fatal, her beautifull pale face&lt;br /&gt;moved me more than ever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got drunk listening to her&lt;br /&gt;The alcohol makes forget time&lt;br /&gt;I woke up feeling&lt;br /&gt;kisses on my burning forehead&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We met, we recognized,&lt;br /&gt;we lost sight of each other, we lost sight again&lt;br /&gt;we meet again, we heated up each other,&lt;br /&gt;then we separated&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each one is gone&lt;br /&gt;in the whirlpool of life&lt;br /&gt;I saw her again one night ha!&lt;br /&gt;she felt into my harms again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we met&lt;br /&gt;when we recognized each other&lt;br /&gt;why lose sight,&lt;br /&gt;and lose sight again?&lt;br /&gt;When we find each other&lt;br /&gt;when we warm again each other&lt;br /&gt;why separate?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus all two, we got back&lt;br /&gt;into the whirlpool of life&lt;br /&gt;we kept on turning&lt;br /&gt;the two of us interlaced&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elle avait des bagues à chaque doigt,&lt;br /&gt;Des tas de bracelets autour des poignets,&lt;br /&gt;Et puis elle chantait avec une voix&lt;br /&gt;Qui, sitôt, m'enjôla&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elle avait des yeux, des yeux d'opale,&lt;br /&gt;Qui m'fascinaient, qui m'fascinaient&lt;br /&gt;Y avait l'ovale de son visage pâle&lt;br /&gt;De femme fatale qui m'fut fatal {2x}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On s'est connus, on s'est reconnus,&lt;br /&gt;On s'est perdus de vue, on s'est r'perdus d'vue&lt;br /&gt;On s'est retrouvés, on s'est réchauffés,&lt;br /&gt;Puis on s'est séparés&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chacun pour soi est reparti.&lt;br /&gt;Dans l'tourbillon de la vie&lt;br /&gt;Je l'ai revue un soir, aïe, aïe, aïe !&lt;br /&gt;Ça fait déjà un fameux bail {2x}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Au son des banjos je l'ai reconnu&lt;br /&gt;Ce curieux sourire qui m'avait tant plu&lt;br /&gt;Sa voix si fatale, son beau visage pâle&lt;br /&gt;M'émurent plus que jamais&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je me suis soûlé en l'écoutant&lt;br /&gt;L'alcool fait oublier le temps&lt;br /&gt;Je me suis réveillé en sentant&lt;br /&gt;Des baisers sur mon front brûlant {2x}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On s'est connus, on s'est reconnus,&lt;br /&gt;On s'est perdus de vue, on s'est r'perdus de vue,&lt;br /&gt;On s'est retrouvés, on s'est séparés,&lt;br /&gt;Puis on s'est réchauffés&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chacun pour soi est reparti.&lt;br /&gt;Dans l'tourbillon de la vie.&lt;br /&gt;Je l'ai revue un soir ah là là&lt;br /&gt;Elle est retombée dans mes bras {2x}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quand on s'est connus,&lt;br /&gt;Quand on s'est reconnus,&lt;br /&gt;Pourquoi s'perdre de vue,&lt;br /&gt;Se reperdre de vue ?&lt;br /&gt;Quand on s'est retrouvés,&lt;br /&gt;Quand on s'est réchauffés,&lt;br /&gt;Pourquoi se séparer ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alors tous deux, on est repartis&lt;br /&gt;Dans l'tourbillon de la vie&lt;br /&gt;On a continué à tourner&lt;br /&gt;Tous les deux enlacés {3x}&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-6690066272839707770?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/6690066272839707770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/vanessa-paradis-whirl-of-life-le.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/6690066272839707770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/6690066272839707770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/vanessa-paradis-whirl-of-life-le.html' title='Vanessa Paradis - The Whirlpool of Life&lt;br&gt;Le tourbillon de la vie'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-3719488606981617151</id><published>2007-06-16T13:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-06-17T19:09:18.683+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jeanne Moreau'/><title type='text'>Jeanne Moreau - The Whirlpool of LifeLe tourbillon de la vie</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/dcVcwwo8QFE"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/dcVcwwo8QFE" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Jeanne Moreau - The Whirlpool of Life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had rings on every finger&lt;br /&gt;tons of  bracelets around her wrists&lt;br /&gt;And also she used to sing with a voice&lt;br /&gt;that, right away, seduced me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had eyes, eyes like opal&lt;br /&gt;that fascinated me, that facinated me&lt;br /&gt;The oval of her pale face&lt;br /&gt;of a femme fatale who was fatal to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We met, we recognized,&lt;br /&gt;we lost sight of each other, we lost sight again&lt;br /&gt;we meet again, we heated up each other,&lt;br /&gt;then we separated&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each one is gone&lt;br /&gt;in the whirlpool of life&lt;br /&gt;I've seen her one day at night, ouch!&lt;br /&gt;It's been a long time now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the sound of banjos I recognized her&lt;br /&gt;this strange smile that was so appealing to me&lt;br /&gt;Her voice so fatal, her beautifull pale face&lt;br /&gt;moved me more than ever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got drunk listening to her&lt;br /&gt;The alcohol makes forget time&lt;br /&gt;I woke up feeling&lt;br /&gt;kisses on my burning forehead&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We met, we recognized,&lt;br /&gt;we lost sight of each other, we lost sight again&lt;br /&gt;we meet again, we heated up each other,&lt;br /&gt;then we separated&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each one is gone&lt;br /&gt;in the whirlpool of life&lt;br /&gt;I saw her again one night ha!&lt;br /&gt;she felt into my harms again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we met&lt;br /&gt;when we recognized each other&lt;br /&gt;why lose sight,&lt;br /&gt;and lose sight again?&lt;br /&gt;When we find each other&lt;br /&gt;when we warm again each other&lt;br /&gt;why separate?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus all two, we got back&lt;br /&gt;into the whirlpool of life&lt;br /&gt;we kept on turning&lt;br /&gt;the two of us interlaced&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elle avait des bagues à chaque doigt,&lt;br /&gt;Des tas de bracelets autour des poignets,&lt;br /&gt;Et puis elle chantait avec une voix&lt;br /&gt;Qui, sitôt, m'enjôla&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elle avait des yeux, des yeux d'opale,&lt;br /&gt;Qui m'fascinaient, qui m'fascinaient&lt;br /&gt;Y avait l'ovale de son visage pâle&lt;br /&gt;De femme fatale qui m'fut fatal {2x}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On s'est connus, on s'est reconnus,&lt;br /&gt;On s'est perdus de vue, on s'est r'perdus d'vue&lt;br /&gt;On s'est retrouvés, on s'est réchauffés,&lt;br /&gt;Puis on s'est séparés&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chacun pour soi est reparti.&lt;br /&gt;Dans l'tourbillon de la vie&lt;br /&gt;Je l'ai revue un soir, aïe, aïe, aïe !&lt;br /&gt;Ça fait déjà un fameux bail {2x}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Au son des banjos je l'ai reconnu&lt;br /&gt;Ce curieux sourire qui m'avait tant plu&lt;br /&gt;Sa voix si fatale, son beau visage pâle&lt;br /&gt;M'émurent plus que jamais&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je me suis soûlé en l'écoutant&lt;br /&gt;L'alcool fait oublier le temps&lt;br /&gt;Je me suis réveillé en sentant&lt;br /&gt;Des baisers sur mon front brûlant {2x}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On s'est connus, on s'est reconnus,&lt;br /&gt;On s'est perdus de vue, on s'est r'perdus de vue,&lt;br /&gt;On s'est retrouvés, on s'est séparés,&lt;br /&gt;Puis on s'est réchauffés&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chacun pour soi est reparti.&lt;br /&gt;Dans l'tourbillon de la vie.&lt;br /&gt;Je l'ai revue un soir ah là là&lt;br /&gt;Elle est retombée dans mes bras {2x}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quand on s'est connus,&lt;br /&gt;Quand on s'est reconnus,&lt;br /&gt;Pourquoi s'perdre de vue,&lt;br /&gt;Se reperdre de vue ?&lt;br /&gt;Quand on s'est retrouvés,&lt;br /&gt;Quand on s'est réchauffés,&lt;br /&gt;Pourquoi se séparer ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alors tous deux, on est repartis&lt;br /&gt;Dans l'tourbillon de la vie&lt;br /&gt;On a continué à tourner&lt;br /&gt;Tous les deux enlacés {3x}&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-3719488606981617151?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/3719488606981617151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/jeanne-moreau-whirlpool-of-life-le.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/3719488606981617151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/3719488606981617151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/jeanne-moreau-whirlpool-of-life-le.html' title='Jeanne Moreau - The Whirlpool of Life&lt;br&gt;Le tourbillon de la vie'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-2989352042371618876</id><published>2007-06-16T13:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-06-17T16:35:17.824+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jeanne Moreau'/><title type='text'>Jeanne Moreau - My Memory is FadingJ'ai la mémoire qui flanche</title><content type='html'>Jeanne Moreau - My Memory is Fading&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My memory is fading&lt;br /&gt;I don't remember very well&lt;br /&gt;Because he was very a musician&lt;br /&gt;It played much of the hands&lt;br /&gt;Everything between us started&lt;br /&gt;By a very long kiss&lt;br /&gt;On the bluish vein of the wrist&lt;br /&gt;A long kiss without end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My memory is fading&lt;br /&gt;I don't remember very well&lt;br /&gt;Which could be his first name&lt;br /&gt;And which was his name&lt;br /&gt;He was called. I called him.&lt;br /&gt;How was he called?&lt;br /&gt;However it is insane what I liked&lt;br /&gt;To call him by his name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My memory is fading&lt;br /&gt;I don't remember very well&lt;br /&gt;What color were his eyes?&lt;br /&gt;I do not believe that they were blue.&lt;br /&gt;Were they green, were they gray?&lt;br /&gt;Were they green or gray?&lt;br /&gt;Or they changed color all the time&lt;br /&gt;For a no, for a yes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My memory is fading&lt;br /&gt;I don't remember very well&lt;br /&gt;Was he living in this old hotel&lt;br /&gt;Stuffed with musicians&lt;br /&gt;While he me.. while I..&lt;br /&gt;While we were partying&lt;br /&gt;All these saxes, these clarinets&lt;br /&gt;that make my head spin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My memory is fading&lt;br /&gt;I don't remember very well&lt;br /&gt;Which of us two was wearied&lt;br /&gt;Other than the first?&lt;br /&gt;Was it me? Was it him?&lt;br /&gt;Was it thus me or him?&lt;br /&gt;All that I know it is that since then&lt;br /&gt;I do not know any more who I am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My memory is fading&lt;br /&gt;I don't remember very well&lt;br /&gt;And now, after all these sleepless nights&lt;br /&gt;It remains to me nothing more than&lt;br /&gt;A little tune that he was humming&lt;br /&gt;Every day while shaving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Jeanne Moreau - J'ai la mémoire qui flanche&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;J'ai la mémoire qui flanche&lt;br /&gt;J'me souviens plus très bien&lt;br /&gt;Comme il était très musicien&lt;br /&gt;Il jouait beaucoup des mains&lt;br /&gt;Tout entre nous a commencé&lt;br /&gt;Par un très long baiser&lt;br /&gt;Sur la veine bleutée du poignet&lt;br /&gt;Un long baiser sans fin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai la mémoire qui flanche&lt;br /&gt;J'me souviens plus très bien&lt;br /&gt;Quel pouvait être son prénom&lt;br /&gt;Et quel était son nom&lt;br /&gt;Il s'appelait Je l'appelais&lt;br /&gt;Comment l'appelait-ton?&lt;br /&gt;Pourtant c'est fou ce que j'aimais&lt;br /&gt;L'appeler par son nom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai la mémoire qui flanche&lt;br /&gt;J'me souviens plus très bien&lt;br /&gt;De quelle couleur étaient ses yeux?&lt;br /&gt;J'crois pas qu'ils étaient bleus&lt;br /&gt;Etaient-ils verts, étaient-ils gris?&lt;br /&gt;Etaient-ils vert de gris ?&lt;br /&gt;Ou changeaient-ils tout le temps d'couleur&lt;br /&gt;Pour un non pour un oui?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai la mémoire qui flanche&lt;br /&gt;J'm'en souviens plus très bien&lt;br /&gt;Habitait-il ce vieil hôtel&lt;br /&gt;Bourré de musiciens&lt;br /&gt;Pendant qu'il me pendant que je&lt;br /&gt;Pendant qu'on faisait la fête&lt;br /&gt;Tous ces saxos, ces clarinettes&lt;br /&gt;Qui me tournaient la tête&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai la mémoire qui flanche&lt;br /&gt;J'me souviens plus très bien&lt;br /&gt;Lequel de nous deux s'est lassé&lt;br /&gt;De l'autre le premier?&lt;br /&gt;Etait-ce moi? Etait-ce lui?&lt;br /&gt;Etait-ce donc moi ou lui&lt;br /&gt;Tout ce que je sais c'est que depuis&lt;br /&gt;Je n'sais plus qui je suis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai la mémoire qui flanche&lt;br /&gt;J'me souviens plus très bien&lt;br /&gt;Voilà qu'après toutes ces nuits blanches&lt;br /&gt;Il me reste plus rien&lt;br /&gt;Rien qu'un p'tit air qu'il sifflotait&lt;br /&gt;Chaque jour en se rasant&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-2989352042371618876?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/2989352042371618876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/jeanne-moreau-my-memory-is-fading-jai.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2989352042371618876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2989352042371618876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/jeanne-moreau-my-memory-is-fading-jai.html' title='Jeanne Moreau - My Memory is Fading&lt;br&gt;J&apos;ai la mémoire qui flanche'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-2409382300458152449</id><published>2007-06-16T03:22:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-06-16T11:43:17.833+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Les Ogres de Barback'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Ogres de Barback - Panam StreetLes rues de Panam</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;object height="356" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/2zkPpYUVdTwjwfn1d"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/2zkPpYUVdTwjwfn1d" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="356" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Ogres de Barback - Panam Street&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;On Panam Street (in Paris)&lt;br /&gt;Wandering by the edge of the water&lt;br /&gt;I was smoking my &lt;span&gt;Amsterdam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To end at the pub.&lt;br /&gt;There were two or three women&lt;br /&gt;who were on the game.&lt;br /&gt;Me, I was sharpening my blade&lt;br /&gt;to stab the swankies.&lt;br /&gt;The people of my area,&lt;br /&gt;the tourists, the elders&lt;br /&gt;like to walk-around&lt;br /&gt;along the grand boulevards.&lt;br /&gt;They buy souvenirs&lt;br /&gt;plastic eiffel towers,&lt;br /&gt;the saltimbancos make them laugh.&lt;br /&gt;But it should be explained to them&lt;br /&gt;that there is shit everywere,&lt;br /&gt;drug and above all,&lt;br /&gt;young people sweating blood&lt;br /&gt;wheeling and dealing poverty.&lt;br /&gt;But I have to say&lt;br /&gt;that I spend all my days there,&lt;br /&gt;'cause sometimes in Paris&lt;br /&gt;it is joy and craziness!&lt;br /&gt;But believe me, soon&lt;br /&gt;the cops will have some work&lt;br /&gt;because every vagabond&lt;br /&gt;talks about revolution.&lt;br /&gt;One day, all our songs will disarm you.&lt;br /&gt;there will be only craziness,&lt;br /&gt;joy and arnarchy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ogres de Barback - Les Rues de Panam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dans une rue de Panam&lt;br /&gt;Errant au bord de l'eau,&lt;br /&gt;J'fumais mon Amsterdam&lt;br /&gt;Pour finir au bistrot.&lt;br /&gt;Y’avait là deux-trois femmes&lt;br /&gt;Qui faisaient le tapin,&lt;br /&gt;Moi j'aiguisais ma lame&lt;br /&gt;Pour planter les rupins.&lt;br /&gt;Les gens de mon quartier,&lt;br /&gt;Les touristes, les vieillards&lt;br /&gt;Aiment bien s'promener&lt;br /&gt;Le long des grands boulevards.&lt;br /&gt;Ils achètent des souv'nirs&lt;br /&gt;Des tours Eiffel en plastique,&lt;br /&gt;Les saltimbanques les font rire&lt;br /&gt;Mais faudrait qu'on leur explique.&lt;br /&gt;Qu'il y a d'la merde partout&lt;br /&gt;De la drogue et surtout,&lt;br /&gt;Des jeunes en galère&lt;br /&gt;Qu'ils trafiquent la misère.&lt;br /&gt;Mais j'dois bien avouer&lt;br /&gt;Que j'y passe toute mes journées,&lt;br /&gt;'est que parfois à paris&lt;br /&gt;C'est la joie, et la folie !&lt;br /&gt;Mais croyez moi bientôt&lt;br /&gt;Les flics auront du boulot,&lt;br /&gt;Car tous les vagabonds&lt;br /&gt;Parlent de révolution.&lt;br /&gt;Un jour toutes nos chansons&lt;br /&gt;Ouais vous désarmeront,&lt;br /&gt;Il n’y aura plus qu’la folie,&lt;br /&gt;La joie, et l’anarchie ! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-2409382300458152449?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/2409382300458152449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/ogres-de-barback-panam-street-les-rues.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2409382300458152449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2409382300458152449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/ogres-de-barback-panam-street-les-rues.html' title='Ogres de Barback - Panam Street&lt;br&gt;Les rues de Panam'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-8826846581877463884</id><published>2007-06-16T03:18:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-01T16:22:46.762+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Les Ogres de Barback'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Les Ogres de Barback - Accordions for IdiotsAccordéons pour les cons</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TTQdELnskBA"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TTQdELnskBA" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les Ogres de Barback - Accordions for Idiots&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Us, we love travelling although we don't travel a lot&lt;br /&gt;We love the gypsies although we only see them from time to time&lt;br /&gt;I, who wanted to be president, I'm only a student&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I play accordion&lt;br /&gt;Even though I think it is an instrument for idiots&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm only a prisonner who would have liked to be a free man&lt;br /&gt;Going in the fields, singing, picking up the fruits and the flowers&lt;br /&gt;Runing after the girls and playing children games, no longer being scared&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I play accordion&lt;br /&gt;Even though I think it is an instrument for idiots&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes! The name prisoner fits me like a glove&lt;br /&gt;But a glove dirty and badly embroidered, a little like the one of a gypsy&lt;br /&gt;As for what I think of tenderness,&lt;br /&gt;I put it deep into my buttocks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I play accordion&lt;br /&gt;Even though I think it is an instrument for idiots&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not the friend of silence, let alone the friend of noise&lt;br /&gt;The people in the suburbs are very lucky, the folksy ones might be delighted&lt;br /&gt;At home, I have a squeaking door and a screaming bed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I play accordion&lt;br /&gt;Even though I think it is an instrument for idiots&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've see every dune of Creuse, I've seen every bar in Nantes&lt;br /&gt;My life is not happier, my soul is not more pleased&lt;br /&gt;One day, it's sure, I promise, I'll betray all my friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I play accordion&lt;br /&gt;Even though I think it is an instrument for idiots&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I muffed everything in this life and I'm shivering near Paris&lt;br /&gt;It is not because of the cold oh! no of course! It is remorse that is rotting me&lt;br /&gt;And from offense to imposture, I never made things crystal-clear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I play accordion&lt;br /&gt;Even though I think it is an instrument for idiots&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Les Ogres de Barback - Accordéons pour les cons&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nous, on adore les voyages bien qu'on ne voyage pas souvent,&lt;br /&gt;On adore les Gitans bien qu'on n'les voit qu'de temps en temps&lt;br /&gt;Moi, qui voulais être président, je n'suis même pas étudiant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et je joue d'l'accordéon,&lt;br /&gt;Alors que j'trouve que c'est un instrument pour les cons,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et je ne suis qu'un prisonnier qu'aurait voulu être un homme libre&lt;br /&gt;Aller dans les champs, chanter, glaner les fruits et les fleurs&lt;br /&gt;Courir les filles et faire des jeux d'enfants, ne plus avoir peur&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et je n'joue que d'l'accordéon,&lt;br /&gt;Alors que j'trouve que c'est un instrument pour les cons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oui ! le nom de prisonnier me va comme un gant&lt;br /&gt;Mais un gant sale et mal brodé, un peu comme celui d'un gitan&lt;br /&gt;Quant à c'que j'pense de la tendresse,&lt;br /&gt;J'me la fous bien au fond des fesses&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et je joue d'l'accordéon,&lt;br /&gt;Alors que j'trouve que c'est un instrument pour les cons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je n'suis pas l'ami du silence et encore moins celui du bruit&lt;br /&gt;Les banlieusards en ont d'la chance, les campagnards doivent être ravis&lt;br /&gt;Chez moi, y'a une porte qui grince et y'a un lit qui pousse des cris&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et moi, qui joue d'l'accordéon,&lt;br /&gt;Alors que j'trouve que c'est un instrument pour les cons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai vu toutes les dunes de la Creuse, j'ai vu tous les bistrots à Nantes&lt;br /&gt;Ma vie n'en est pas plus heureuse, mon âme n'en est pas plus contente&lt;br /&gt;Un jour, c'est sûr, je l'ai promis, je trahirai tous mes amis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et je jouerai d'l'accordéon,&lt;br /&gt;Alors que j'trouve que c'est un instrument pour les cons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai tout raté dans cette vie et je tremble près de Paris&lt;br /&gt;C'est pas de froid oh! non, pardi ! c'est le remord qui me pourrit&lt;br /&gt;Et c'est d'injure en imposture, j'ai jamais mis les points sur les i&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et je n'joue que d'l'accordéon,&lt;br /&gt;alors que j'trouve que c'est un instrument pour les ...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-8826846581877463884?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/8826846581877463884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/les-ogres-de-barback-accordions-for.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/8826846581877463884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/8826846581877463884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/les-ogres-de-barback-accordions-for.html' title='Les Ogres de Barback - Accordions for Idiots&lt;br&gt;Accordéons pour les cons'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-178173982638969540</id><published>2007-06-16T00:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-06-16T11:29:06.535+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Yann Tiersen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Les Têtes Raides'/><title type='text'>Les Têtes Raides - Ginette</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;object height="332" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/VIcEWlUUV1tzz51R9"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/VIcEWlUUV1tzz51R9" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="332" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xpozf_yann-tiersen-tetes-raides-ginette"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Les Têtes Raides - Ginette&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The sea, you can't invent it&lt;br /&gt;and us, we're dying from staying here&lt;br /&gt;and the tightrope walker as beautiful he is&lt;br /&gt;walking on his line&lt;br /&gt;Charles, he used to say the Albatross&lt;br /&gt;He died of it&lt;br /&gt;of walking on the ground&lt;br /&gt;but it is not the end&lt;br /&gt;he will continue&lt;br /&gt;to fly in the air&lt;br /&gt;And the supermarkets&lt;br /&gt;to make us look like&lt;br /&gt;we are not doing anything&lt;br /&gt;and to eat&lt;br /&gt;We're going to love each other again and again&lt;br /&gt;for years&lt;br /&gt;I was there sir&lt;br /&gt;Otherwise we don't really know what we should do&lt;br /&gt;And there, there is Ginette who waltzes in the dance-hall&lt;br /&gt;who always has a drink in advance&lt;br /&gt;in case the last door would be closing&lt;br /&gt;It is necessary to get drunk no matter what happens&lt;br /&gt;and dream and celebrate&lt;br /&gt;It is musicians on barnstorms&lt;br /&gt;Sooner or later, it is going to demolish&lt;br /&gt;but their story, nobody cares&lt;br /&gt;Ginette keeps on turning&lt;br /&gt;on this scrap iron and broken glass tune&lt;br /&gt;Go Ginette!...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sea, you can't invent it&lt;br /&gt;and us, we're dying from staying here&lt;br /&gt;and that's all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Les Têtes Raides - Ginette&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt; La mer ça n's'invente pas&lt;br /&gt;et nous on crève à rester là&lt;br /&gt;et le funambule beau qu'il est&lt;br /&gt;marchant sur son fil&lt;br /&gt;Charles il disait l'albatros&lt;br /&gt;il en est mort&lt;br /&gt;a marcher sur la terre&lt;br /&gt;mais c'est pas fini&lt;br /&gt;on va continuer&lt;br /&gt;a voler dans les airs&lt;br /&gt;et les supermarchés&lt;br /&gt;pour nous donner l'air&lt;br /&gt;de ne pas rien faire&lt;br /&gt;et pour manger&lt;br /&gt;on va s'aimer encore et encore&lt;br /&gt;pendant des années&lt;br /&gt;j'étais là moi monsieur&lt;br /&gt;sinon on sait pas trop c'qu'il faut faire&lt;br /&gt;et là y a la Ginette qui valse en guinguette&lt;br /&gt;qu'a toujours un verre d'avance&lt;br /&gt;des fois qu'on ferme la dernière porte&lt;br /&gt;faut s'enivrer quoi qu'il arrive&lt;br /&gt;et puis rêver et faire la fête&lt;br /&gt;c'est des musiciens sur des tréteaux&lt;br /&gt;tôt ou tard ça va s'écrouler&lt;br /&gt;mais leur histoire on s'en fout&lt;br /&gt;Ginette continue à tourner&lt;br /&gt;sur cet air de ferraille et de verres cassés&lt;br /&gt;allez Ginette!...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La mer ça n's'invente pas&lt;br /&gt;et nous on crève à rester là&lt;br /&gt;et c'est tout.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-178173982638969540?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/178173982638969540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/les-ttes-raides-ginette.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/178173982638969540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/178173982638969540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/les-ttes-raides-ginette.html' title='Les Têtes Raides - Ginette'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-3668179047237379702</id><published>2007-06-15T23:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-06-17T16:31:43.445+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='La Rue Ketanou'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>La Rue Ketanou - The Men I LoveLes Hommes que j'aime</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;object height="335" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/7owegzWprxpwb5kNC"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/7owegzWprxpwb5kNC" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="335" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xr964_la-rue-ketanou-les-hommes-que-j-aim"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La Rue Ketanou - The Men I Love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to talk to you about&lt;br /&gt;The men I love&lt;br /&gt;Those who kissed me&lt;br /&gt;On the banks of the Seine&lt;br /&gt;That I was about to drop into&lt;br /&gt;Dropped by a queen&lt;br /&gt;That I had loved&lt;br /&gt;More than the men I love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have broken faces&lt;br /&gt;They should be seen at dawn&lt;br /&gt;Going to bed all astonished&lt;br /&gt;By the world around them&lt;br /&gt;They come and go, they hang out&lt;br /&gt;They speak loud or they don't speak&lt;br /&gt;They hear some Carmen&lt;br /&gt;Calling them:"he! come by here!"&lt;br /&gt;And everytime they go for it&lt;br /&gt;And everytime they come back from there&lt;br /&gt;Between an angel and a devil&lt;br /&gt;Thus are the men I love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are Don Juan&lt;br /&gt;Who knows heartbreak&lt;br /&gt;Friendships of survivors&lt;br /&gt;Who celebrate your return&lt;br /&gt;And when a drama goes by&lt;br /&gt;Touching one of us&lt;br /&gt;We gave women names to each other&lt;br /&gt;And we kiss on the lips&lt;br /&gt;Today it is my turn&lt;br /&gt;I have seen the banks of the Seine&lt;br /&gt;And I screamed: "Help!"&lt;br /&gt;Thus love me the men I love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I raise my heart&lt;br /&gt;To the tenderness of these thugs&lt;br /&gt;Brings me luck&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I have a date&lt;br /&gt;And I will go like I am&lt;br /&gt;No, I won't change anything&lt;br /&gt;To the fire in my hands&lt;br /&gt;To my love without reserve&lt;br /&gt;To my love who blows off steam&lt;br /&gt;Even if it is scary&lt;br /&gt;Thus love me the men I love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to talk to you about&lt;br /&gt;The men I love&lt;br /&gt;Those who kissed me&lt;br /&gt;On the banks of the Seine&lt;br /&gt;That I was about to drop into&lt;br /&gt;Dropped by a queen&lt;br /&gt;That I had loved&lt;br /&gt;More than the men I love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;La Rue Ketanou - Les Hommes Que J'aime&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;{Refrain}&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Je voudrais vous parler&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Des hommes que j'aime&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Ceux qui m'ont embrassé&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Au bord de la Seine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Où j'allais me jeter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Jeté par une reine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Que j'avais aimée&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Plus que les hommes que j'aime&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Ils ont des gueules cassées&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Il faut les voir au petit jour&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Se coucher tout étonnés&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Du monde qui les entoure&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Ils vont, ils viennent, ils traînent&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Ils parlent fort ou ils ne parlent pas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Ils entendent des Carmen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Qui leur disent : «Eh ! Viens par là !»&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Et chaque fois ils y vont&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Et chaque fois ils en reviennent&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Entre un ange et un démon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Ainsi j'aime les hommes que j'aime&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;{Au refrain}&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Ce sont des Don Juan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Qui savent le chagrin d'amour&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Des amitiés de survivants&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Qui fêtent votre retour&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Et quand passe un drame&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Et que l'un de nous il touche&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;On se donne des prénoms de femme&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Et on s'embrasse sur la bouche&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Aujourd'hui c'est mon tour&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;J'ai vu le bord de la Seine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Et j'ai crié : «Au secours !»&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Ainsi m'aiment les hommes que j'aime&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;{Au refrain}&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Et je lève mon cœur&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A la tendresse de ces voyous&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Qu'elle me porte bonheur&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Ce soir j'ai rendez-vous&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Et j'irai comme je suis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Non je ne changerai rien&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A toutes mes folies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A mon feu dans mes mains&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A mon amour sans pudeur&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A mon amour qui se déchaîne&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Et même si ça fait peur&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Ainsi aiment les hommes que j'aime&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Je voulais vous parler&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Des hommes que j'aime&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Ceux qui m'ont embrassé&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Au bord de la Seine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Où j'allais me jeter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Jeté par une reine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Que j'avais aimée&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Plus que les hommes que j'aime&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-3668179047237379702?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/3668179047237379702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/la-rue-ketanou-men-i-love-les-hommes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/3668179047237379702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/3668179047237379702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/06/la-rue-ketanou-men-i-love-les-hommes.html' title='La Rue Ketanou - The Men I Love&lt;br&gt;Les Hommes que j&apos;aime'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-1836846684125827571</id><published>2007-05-28T21:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T04:18:18.162+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='La Tordue'/><title type='text'>La tordue - The Wind Invites You Le vent t'invite</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/dDXyf1o1NlM"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/dDXyf1o1NlM" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;La Tordue - The Wind Invites You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wind invites you&lt;br /&gt;Life invents you&lt;br /&gt;It goes away fast&lt;br /&gt;and everything is tempting&lt;br /&gt;sometimes nothings disappoint you&lt;br /&gt;in the small of the back&lt;br /&gt;you feel the stab of Damocles&lt;br /&gt;that is pushing in.&lt;br /&gt;Then it leaves you&lt;br /&gt;to other brambles.&lt;br /&gt;There is no logic.&lt;br /&gt;Gather your belongings&lt;br /&gt;and speed up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wind invites you&lt;br /&gt;to party.&lt;br /&gt;hop hip&lt;br /&gt;The deal is done.&lt;br /&gt;Heart of artichoke&lt;br /&gt;whose the leaves are thining out.&lt;br /&gt;Warm kisses&lt;br /&gt;or obstacles&lt;br /&gt;love rises up again&lt;br /&gt;like the sea&lt;br /&gt;Color of mint&lt;br /&gt;is the bitters.&lt;br /&gt;Love wakes you up&lt;br /&gt;like an alarm clock.&lt;br /&gt;Then you dive in&lt;br /&gt;like a sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You play the clown&lt;br /&gt;you drink pints.&lt;br /&gt;There is no title&lt;br /&gt;for your complaint.&lt;br /&gt;Time avoids you&lt;br /&gt;life gets darker&lt;br /&gt;to the silvering of the windows.&lt;br /&gt;Death turns up&lt;br /&gt;Rigor mortis.&lt;br /&gt;Life goes away.&lt;br /&gt;The bit into the mouth&lt;br /&gt;you go forward.&lt;br /&gt;What’s your life worth?&lt;br /&gt;Not a dime&lt;br /&gt;The heart rives you&lt;br /&gt;like a diamond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, your life&lt;br /&gt;is only wind,&lt;br /&gt;a bag of marbles,&lt;br /&gt;your children eyes,&lt;br /&gt;the look of the girls,&lt;br /&gt;the shiny eyes,&lt;br /&gt;Love rises up&lt;br /&gt;your suspenders&lt;br /&gt;then you dive in again.&lt;br /&gt;Life is beautifull.&lt;br /&gt;Run off&lt;br /&gt;Take your chance by the neck,&lt;br /&gt;gather again your belongings&lt;br /&gt;and dance!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Le Vent T'invite&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;le vent t’invite&lt;br /&gt;la vie t’invente&lt;br /&gt;elle passe vite&lt;br /&gt;et tout te tente&lt;br /&gt;parfois des riens&lt;br /&gt;te désappointent&lt;br /&gt;au creux des reins&lt;br /&gt;tu sens la pointe&lt;br /&gt;de Damoclès&lt;br /&gt;qui s’enfonce&lt;br /&gt;puis elle te laisse&lt;br /&gt;à d’autres ronces&lt;br /&gt;d’une logique&lt;br /&gt;il n’y a pas l’once&lt;br /&gt;reprends tes cliques&lt;br /&gt;et fonce !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;le vent t’invite&lt;br /&gt;à faire la fête&lt;br /&gt;hop hip hip hip&lt;br /&gt;l’affaire est faite&lt;br /&gt;coeur d’artichaut&lt;br /&gt;que l’on effeuille&lt;br /&gt;des baisers chauds&lt;br /&gt;ou des écueils&lt;br /&gt;l’amour remonte&lt;br /&gt;comme la mer&lt;br /&gt;couleur de menthe&lt;br /&gt;sont les amers&lt;br /&gt;l’amour te r’monte&lt;br /&gt;comme un réveil&lt;br /&gt;alors tu plonges&lt;br /&gt;comme un soleil&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tu fais le pitre&lt;br /&gt;tu bois des pintes&lt;br /&gt;Y a pas de titre&lt;br /&gt;à ta complainte&lt;br /&gt;le temps t’évite&lt;br /&gt;la vie se teinte&lt;br /&gt;au tain des vitres&lt;br /&gt;la mort se pointe&lt;br /&gt;rigor mortis&lt;br /&gt;la vie se trisse&lt;br /&gt;le mors aux dents&lt;br /&gt;tu vas d’l’avant&lt;br /&gt;que vaut ta vie&lt;br /&gt;pas un radis&lt;br /&gt;le coeur te fend&lt;br /&gt;comme un diamant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dis-moi ta vie&lt;br /&gt;c’n’est que du vent&lt;br /&gt;un sac de billes&lt;br /&gt;tes yeux d’enfant&lt;br /&gt;le r'gard des filles&lt;br /&gt;les yeux brillants&lt;br /&gt;l’amour te r’monte&lt;br /&gt;les bretelles&lt;br /&gt;alors tu r’plonges&lt;br /&gt;la vie est belle&lt;br /&gt;prends la tangente&lt;br /&gt;si ça te chante&lt;br /&gt;saisis ta chance&lt;br /&gt;par le colback&lt;br /&gt;reprends tes claques&lt;br /&gt;et danse !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-1836846684125827571?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/1836846684125827571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/05/la-tordue-wind-invites-you-le-vent.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1836846684125827571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1836846684125827571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/05/la-tordue-wind-invites-you-le-vent.html' title='La tordue - The Wind Invites You &lt;br&gt;Le vent t&apos;invite'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-4518043252691417565</id><published>2007-05-28T21:26:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-05-28T21:29:36.631+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Algerian'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Souad Massi'/><title type='text'>Souad Massi - Je n'ai pas la temps  I Don't Have Time</title><content type='html'>Souad Massi – I Don’t Have Time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been told that life is beautiful&lt;br /&gt;But me, I find it cruel sometimes&lt;br /&gt;The dark smoke has taken the place of the sky&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus&lt;br /&gt;I’ve no more dreams, I’ve no more home&lt;br /&gt;I have no chimney for the fire&lt;br /&gt;I have no era, I have no seasons anymore&lt;br /&gt;I don’t have time for this game&lt;br /&gt;No no no no&lt;br /&gt;I don’t have time for this game&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for the night to cry&lt;br /&gt;Hiding our tears until the evening&lt;br /&gt;Listening to the emptiness whispering to us&lt;br /&gt;Our story until the morning&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alone in the desert street&lt;br /&gt;Alone living through the winter&lt;br /&gt;I walk without looking around&lt;br /&gt;I follow my lonely way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Souad Massi - J'ai Pas De Temps&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On m'avais dit que la vie est belle&lt;br /&gt;Mais moi je la trouve des fois cruelle&lt;br /&gt;La fumé noir a pris la place du ciel&lt;br /&gt;Les grandes tours ont caché les étoiles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Refrain&lt;br /&gt;J'ai plus de reves ,j'ai plus de maisons&lt;br /&gt;J'ai pas de cheminée pour le feu&lt;br /&gt;J'ai plus d'époque, j'ai plus de saisons&lt;br /&gt;J'ai pas de temps pour ce jeu&lt;br /&gt;Non,non,non,non&lt;br /&gt;J'ai pas de temps pour ce jeu là&lt;br /&gt;J'ai pas de temps pour ce jeu&lt;br /&gt;J'ai pas de temps pour ce jeu là&lt;br /&gt;J'ai pas de temps pour ce jeu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Attendre la nuit pour pleurer&lt;br /&gt;Cacher ses larmes jusqu'au soir&lt;br /&gt;Ecouter le vide nous murmurer&lt;br /&gt;Jusqu'au matin notre histoire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Refrain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seule dans la rue déserte&lt;br /&gt;Seule traversant l'hiver&lt;br /&gt;Je marche sans tourner le tete&lt;br /&gt;Je suis mon chemin de solitaire&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-4518043252691417565?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/4518043252691417565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/05/souad-massi-je-nai-pas-la-temps-i-dont.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/4518043252691417565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/4518043252691417565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/05/souad-massi-je-nai-pas-la-temps-i-dont.html' title='Souad Massi - Je n&apos;ai pas la temps &lt;br&gt; I Don&apos;t Have Time'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-605944333013423988</id><published>2007-05-28T16:25:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-05-28T21:22:32.170+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tunisian'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Arabic Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Latifa'/><title type='text'>Latifa - HopefullyInchallahإن شاء الله</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WJhDQCD5lJk"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WJhDQCD5lJk" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Latifa - Hopefully&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully you will come back to me&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully your heart is mine&lt;br /&gt;How long, tell me, can you hope to do without me?&lt;br /&gt;Me, your beloved?&lt;br /&gt;You act proud like a matador&lt;br /&gt;But our love will be the strongest&lt;br /&gt;You're gone without a glance&lt;br /&gt;In order to avoid my crazed eyes&lt;br /&gt;Will you come back to the light?&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully, it is my prayer&lt;br /&gt;Who else will give you her soul and her heart&lt;br /&gt;Without counting&lt;br /&gt;Who will know how to read all your desires on your face, even the least proper?&lt;br /&gt;Oh remember your promises, your oaths, your feelings&lt;br /&gt;Keep in your memory the sweet perfume of our history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;لطيفة - إن شاء الله&lt;br /&gt;Hinchallah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Inchallah tu me reviendras&lt;br /&gt;Inchallah ton Coeur est à moi&lt;br /&gt;Combien de temps, dis, peux-tu esperer&lt;br /&gt;Te passer de moi, moi ta bien aimée?&lt;br /&gt;Tu fais le fier, le matador.&lt;br /&gt;Mais notre amour sera plus fort&lt;br /&gt;Tu est parti sans un regard pour éviter&lt;br /&gt;Mes yeux hagards.&lt;br /&gt;Tu reviendras vers la lumiére?&lt;br /&gt;Inchallah C’est ma priére.&lt;br /&gt;Qui d’autre que moi saura te donner&lt;br /&gt;Som âme et son Coeur.&lt;br /&gt;Sans jamais compter&lt;br /&gt;Qui saura lire sur ton visage tous tes désirs même les moins sages?&lt;br /&gt;Oh souviens toi de tes promesses, de tes serments, de ta tendresse!&lt;br /&gt;Garde en mémoire le doux parfum de notre histoire.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-605944333013423988?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/605944333013423988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/05/latifa-hopefully.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/605944333013423988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/605944333013423988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/05/latifa-hopefully.html' title='Latifa - Hopefully&lt;br&gt;Inchallah&lt;br&gt;إن شاء الله'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-1995622942362233042</id><published>2007-05-27T20:09:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-05-28T16:13:58.476+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Georges Brassens'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><title type='text'>Georges Brassens - Les amoureux des bancs publics The Lovers on Public Benches</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UlmyNpn_mnc"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/UlmyNpn_mnc" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People who can't see right&lt;br /&gt;think that the green benches&lt;br /&gt;that we see on the sidewalks&lt;br /&gt;are made for the helplesses and overweight people.&lt;br /&gt;But it is a fallacy&lt;br /&gt;because the truth is&lt;br /&gt;and it is commonly known that the benches are there&lt;br /&gt;to host for a short time the beginner lovers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lovers who kiss on the public benches&lt;br /&gt;public benches, public benches&lt;br /&gt;they dont give a damn about a disapproving glance&lt;br /&gt;from the honest passerby.&lt;br /&gt;The lovers who kiss on the public benches&lt;br /&gt;public benches, public benches&lt;br /&gt;saying pathetic "I love you"s&lt;br /&gt;have friendly little faces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They hold each other's hands&lt;br /&gt;talk about tomorow,&lt;br /&gt;about the blue wallpaper&lt;br /&gt;that they will have on the walls of their bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;They see them already&lt;br /&gt;her sewing, him smoking&lt;br /&gt;in a secure well-being,&lt;br /&gt;choosing the names of their first baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lovers who kiss on the public benches&lt;br /&gt;public benches, public benches&lt;br /&gt;they dont give a damn about a disapproving glance&lt;br /&gt;from the honest passerby.&lt;br /&gt;The lovers who kiss on the public benches&lt;br /&gt;public benches, public benches&lt;br /&gt;saying pathetic "I love you"s&lt;br /&gt;have friendly little faces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the holy family "what's-it-name"&lt;br /&gt;pass by them,&lt;br /&gt;these two naughty kids&lt;br /&gt;they boldly fire off poisonous remarks.&lt;br /&gt;However the whole family,&lt;br /&gt;the father, the mother, the daughter,&lt;br /&gt;the son, and the holy spirit&lt;br /&gt;would like from time to times be allowed to behave like them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lovers who kiss on the public benches&lt;br /&gt;public benches, public benches&lt;br /&gt;they dont give a damn about a disapproving glance&lt;br /&gt;from the honest passerby.&lt;br /&gt;The lovers who kiss on the public benches&lt;br /&gt;public benches, public benches&lt;br /&gt;saying pathetic "I love you"s&lt;br /&gt;have friendly little faces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the months pass&lt;br /&gt;when their beautiful balzing dreams calm down,&lt;br /&gt;when their sky is covered with big heavy clouds&lt;br /&gt;They will realise, touched,&lt;br /&gt;that it is in the chance of the street,&lt;br /&gt;on one of these famous banks&lt;br /&gt;they lived the best part of their love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lovers who kiss on the public benches&lt;br /&gt;public benches, public benches&lt;br /&gt;they dont give a damn about a disapproving glance&lt;br /&gt;from the honest passerby.&lt;br /&gt;The lovers who kiss on the public benches&lt;br /&gt;public benches, public benches&lt;br /&gt;saying pathetic "I love you"s&lt;br /&gt;have friendly little faces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Les gens qui voient de travers&lt;br /&gt;Pensent que les bancs verts&lt;br /&gt;Qu'on voit sur les trottoirs&lt;br /&gt;Sont faits pour les impotents ou les ventripotents&lt;br /&gt;Mais c'est une absurdité&lt;br /&gt;Car à la vérité&lt;br /&gt;Ils sont là c'est notoire&lt;br /&gt;Pour accueillir quelque temps les amours débutants&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les amoureux qui s'bécott'nt sur les bancs publics&lt;br /&gt;Bancs publics, bancs publics&lt;br /&gt;En s'fouttant pas mal du regard oblique&lt;br /&gt;Des passants honnêtes&lt;br /&gt;Les amoureux qui s'bécott'nt sur les bancs publics&lt;br /&gt;Bancs publics, bancs publics&lt;br /&gt;En s'disant des "Je t'aime" pathétiques&lt;br /&gt;Ont des p'tit's gueul' bien sympatiques&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ils se tiennent par la main&lt;br /&gt;Parlent du lendemain&lt;br /&gt;Du papier bleu d'azur&lt;br /&gt;Que revêtiront les murs de leur chambre à coucher&lt;br /&gt;Ils se voient déjà doucement&lt;br /&gt;Ell' cousant, lui fumant&lt;br /&gt;Dans un bien-être sûr&lt;br /&gt;Et choisissent les prénoms de leur premier bébé&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les amoureux qui s'bécott'nt sur les bancs publics&lt;br /&gt;Bancs publics, bancs publics&lt;br /&gt;En s'fouttant pas mal du regard oblique&lt;br /&gt;Des passants honnêtes&lt;br /&gt;Les amoureux qui s'bécott'nt sur les bancs publics&lt;br /&gt;Bancs publics, bancs publics&lt;br /&gt;En s'disant des "Je t'aime" pathétiques&lt;br /&gt;Ont des p'tit's gueul' bien sympatiques&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quand la saint' famill' machin&lt;br /&gt;Croise sur son chemin&lt;br /&gt;Deux de ces malappris&lt;br /&gt;Ell' leur décoche hardiment des propos venimeux&lt;br /&gt;N'empêch' que tout' la famille&lt;br /&gt;Le pèr', la mèr', la fille&lt;br /&gt;Le fils, le Saint Esprit&lt;br /&gt;Voudrait bien de temps en temps pouvoir s'conduir' comme eux&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les amoureux qui s'bécott'nt sur les bancs publics&lt;br /&gt;Bancs publics, bancs publics&lt;br /&gt;En s'fouttant pas mal du regard oblique&lt;br /&gt;Des passants honnêtes&lt;br /&gt;Les amoureux qui s'bécott'nt sur les bancs publics&lt;br /&gt;Bancs publics, bancs publics&lt;br /&gt;En s'disant des "Je t'aime" pathétiques&lt;br /&gt;Ont des p'tit's gueul' bien sympatiques&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quand les mois auront passé&lt;br /&gt;Quand seront apaisés&lt;br /&gt;Leurs beaux rêves flambants&lt;br /&gt;Quand leur ciel se couvrira de gros nuages lourds&lt;br /&gt;Ils s'apercevront émus&lt;br /&gt;Qu' c'est au hasard des rues&lt;br /&gt;Sur un d'ces fameux bancs&lt;br /&gt;Qu'ils ont vécu le meilleur morceau de leur amour&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les amoureux qui s'bécott'nt sur les bancs publics&lt;br /&gt;Bancs publics, bancs publics&lt;br /&gt;En s'fouttant pas mal du regard oblique&lt;br /&gt;Des passants honnêtes&lt;br /&gt;Les amoureux qui s'bécott'nt sur les bancs publics&lt;br /&gt;Bancs publics, bancs publics&lt;br /&gt;En s'disant des "Je t'aime" pathétiques&lt;br /&gt;Ont des p'tit's gueul' bien sympatiques&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-1995622942362233042?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/1995622942362233042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/05/georges-brassens-les-amoureux-des-bancs.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1995622942362233042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1995622942362233042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/05/georges-brassens-les-amoureux-des-bancs.html' title='Georges Brassens - Les amoureux des bancs publics&lt;br&gt; The Lovers on Public Benches'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-6377986930344421521</id><published>2007-05-26T22:50:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-05-28T16:14:35.190+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chanson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jacques Brel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Belgian'/><title type='text'>Jacques Brel - Amsterdam</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pk7YxDzjTxA" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the Amsterdam harbor&lt;br /&gt;there are sailors who sing&lt;br /&gt;the dreams that are haunting them&lt;br /&gt;offshore from Amsterdam.&lt;br /&gt;In the Amsterdam harbor&lt;br /&gt;there are sailors who sleep&lt;br /&gt;like banners&lt;br /&gt;along the dreary banks.&lt;br /&gt;In the Amsterdam harbor&lt;br /&gt;There are sailors who die&lt;br /&gt;full of beer and tragedies&lt;br /&gt;at the first day break.&lt;br /&gt;But in the Amsterdam harbor,&lt;br /&gt;there are sailors born&lt;br /&gt;in the thick heat&lt;br /&gt;of the languors of the ocean&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the Amsterdam harbor&lt;br /&gt;there are sailors who eat dripping wet fish&lt;br /&gt;above tablecloths that are too white&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They show you their teeth&lt;br /&gt;that can bite fortune&lt;br /&gt;that can wane the moon&lt;br /&gt;that can gobble up the ship's stays.&lt;br /&gt;And it smells like cod&lt;br /&gt;even in the heart of the fries&lt;br /&gt;that their big hands invite&lt;br /&gt;to come again.&lt;br /&gt;Then they get up, laughing&lt;br /&gt;with a stormy noise&lt;br /&gt;they zip up their fly&lt;br /&gt;and leave burping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the harbor of Amsterdam&lt;br /&gt;there are sailors who dance&lt;br /&gt;rubbing their midsections&lt;br /&gt;against the midsections of the women.&lt;br /&gt;And their turn and they dance&lt;br /&gt;like spit out suns&lt;br /&gt;in the torn sound&lt;br /&gt;of a rancid accordion.&lt;br /&gt;They distort their neck&lt;br /&gt;to better hear their laugh&lt;br /&gt;until suddenly&lt;br /&gt;the accordion expires&lt;br /&gt;Then with a grave gesture&lt;br /&gt;then with a proud look&lt;br /&gt;they lead back their girls&lt;br /&gt;in the full light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the Amsterdam harbour&lt;br /&gt;there are sailors who drink&lt;br /&gt;and who drink, drink&lt;br /&gt;and drink some more.&lt;br /&gt;They drink to the health&lt;br /&gt;of the whores of Amsterdam,&lt;br /&gt;of Hamburg or elsewhere,&lt;br /&gt;and finally, they drink to the ladies,&lt;br /&gt;who give them their pretty bodies&lt;br /&gt;who give them their virtue&lt;br /&gt;for a piece of gold,&lt;br /&gt;and when they have drunk enough&lt;br /&gt;they stand, their nose to the sky&lt;br /&gt;they blow their nose into the stars&lt;br /&gt;And they piss, just as I cry, to the strumpets&lt;br /&gt;in the Amsterdam harbor&lt;br /&gt;in the Amsterdam harbor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Dans le port d'Amsterdam&lt;br /&gt;Y a des marins qui chantent&lt;br /&gt;Les rêves qui les hantent&lt;br /&gt;Au large d'Amsterdam&lt;br /&gt;Dans le port d'Amsterdam&lt;br /&gt;Y a des marins qui dorment&lt;br /&gt;Comme des oriflammes&lt;br /&gt;Le long des berges mornes&lt;br /&gt;Dans le port d'Amsterdam&lt;br /&gt;Y a des marins qui meurent&lt;br /&gt;Pleins de bière et de drames&lt;br /&gt;Aux premières lueurs&lt;br /&gt;Mais dans le port d'Amsterdam&lt;br /&gt;Y a des marins qui naissent&lt;br /&gt;Dans la chaleur épaisse&lt;br /&gt;Des langueurs océanes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dans le port d'Amsterdam&lt;br /&gt;Y a des marins qui mangent&lt;br /&gt;Sur des nappes trop blanches&lt;br /&gt;Des poissons ruisselants&lt;br /&gt;Ils vous montrent des dents&lt;br /&gt;A croquer la fortune&lt;br /&gt;A décroisser la lune&lt;br /&gt;A bouffer des haubans&lt;br /&gt;Et ça sent la morue&lt;br /&gt;Jusque dans le cœur des frites&lt;br /&gt;Que leurs grosses mains invitent&lt;br /&gt;A revenir en plus&lt;br /&gt;Puis se lèvent en riant&lt;br /&gt;Dans un bruit de tempête&lt;br /&gt;Referment leur braguette&lt;br /&gt;Et sortent en rotant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dans le port d'Amsterdam&lt;br /&gt;Y a des marins qui dansent&lt;br /&gt;En se frottant la panse&lt;br /&gt;Sur la panse des femmes&lt;br /&gt;Et ils tournent et ils dansent&lt;br /&gt;Comme des soleils crachés&lt;br /&gt;Dans le son déchiré&lt;br /&gt;D'un accordéon rance&lt;br /&gt;Ils se tordent le cou&lt;br /&gt;Pour mieux s'entendre rire&lt;br /&gt;Jusqu'à ce que tout à coup&lt;br /&gt;L'accordéon expire&lt;br /&gt;Alors le geste grave&lt;br /&gt;Alors le regard fier&lt;br /&gt;Ils ramènent leurs bataves&lt;br /&gt;Jusqu'en pleine lumière.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dans le port d'Amsterdam&lt;br /&gt;Y a des marins qui boivent&lt;br /&gt;Et qui boivent et reboivent&lt;br /&gt;Et qui reboivent encore&lt;br /&gt;Ils boivent à la santé&lt;br /&gt;Des putains d'Amsterdam&lt;br /&gt;De Hambourg ou d'ailleurs&lt;br /&gt;Enfin ils boivent aux dames&lt;br /&gt;Qui leur donnent leur joli corps&lt;br /&gt;Qui leur donnent leur vertu&lt;br /&gt;Pour une pièce en or&lt;br /&gt;Et quand ils ont bien bu&lt;br /&gt;Se plantent le nez au ciel&lt;br /&gt;Se mouchent dans les étoiles&lt;br /&gt;Et ils pissent comme je pleure&lt;br /&gt;Sur les femmes infidèles&lt;br /&gt;Dans le port d'Amsterdam&lt;br /&gt;Dans le port d'Amsterdam&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-6377986930344421521?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/6377986930344421521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/05/jacques-brel-amsterdam.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/6377986930344421521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/6377986930344421521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/05/jacques-brel-amsterdam.html' title='Jacques Brel - Amsterdam'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-1293079759280391642</id><published>2007-05-26T00:01:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-05-28T21:23:54.353+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Algerian'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cheb Mami'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Raï'/><title type='text'>Cheb Mami - No, It's Gonna Be No (My Life My Life)Non Ce Sera Non (Omri Omri)</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0J03yTS-hKE"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0J03yTS-hKE" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cheb Mami - No, It's Gonna Be No (My Life My Life)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you come back to me&lt;br /&gt;Without you I have nothing&lt;br /&gt;I have nothing&lt;br /&gt;Why not just try? (In French)&lt;br /&gt;I've been so patient for you but I have not found anything&lt;br /&gt;At this point I'm frustrated&lt;br /&gt;I can't cry and I can't heal from it&lt;br /&gt;All that I've experienced with you is bitterness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(In French)&lt;br /&gt;No it's gonna be no, no way&lt;br /&gt;She's going to make it backward&lt;br /&gt;So brother we'll see&lt;br /&gt;No it's gonna be no, no way&lt;br /&gt;But this girl drives him crazy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my life, my life&lt;br /&gt;Where can I find you?&lt;br /&gt;I'm up every night searching for you&lt;br /&gt;My darling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My worries cauterized me and went into my heart&lt;br /&gt;And it wants you&lt;br /&gt;Tell me where is I love you and where is its beauty?&lt;br /&gt;I've gone crazy and I can't wait&lt;br /&gt;All I want is to see you&lt;br /&gt;Oh you who is missing from me&lt;br /&gt;Oh my life come back, come back&lt;br /&gt;My heart can't forget you&lt;br /&gt;If you think I'm history&lt;br /&gt;Fine, where will I find peace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No it's gonna be no, no way&lt;br /&gt;She's going to make it backward&lt;br /&gt;So brother we'll see&lt;br /&gt;No it's gonna be no, no way&lt;br /&gt;But this girl drives him crazy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(In French)&lt;br /&gt;Calm your feelings, calm your arrogance&lt;br /&gt;If you're lying, calm your impudence&lt;br /&gt;You're going to run, you're going to slave away, you need to understand&lt;br /&gt;That a woman like that looks too much for cash, she will switch you off slowly&lt;br /&gt;You're going to suffer under pressure, but realise it!&lt;br /&gt;A woman like her will cause you pain, will kill you slowly&lt;br /&gt;Calm your feelings, calm your arrogance&lt;br /&gt;If you're lying, calm your impudence&lt;br /&gt;You're going to run, you're going to slave away, you need to understand!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No it's gonna be no, no way&lt;br /&gt;She's going to make it backward&lt;br /&gt;So brother we'll see&lt;br /&gt;No it's gonna be no, no way&lt;br /&gt;But this girl drives him crazy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my life, my life&lt;br /&gt;Where can I find you?&lt;br /&gt;I'm up every night searching for you&lt;br /&gt;My darling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I have is a suffering heart&lt;br /&gt;All I have is that which you left me&lt;br /&gt;And it's crying and wailing&lt;br /&gt;And finds nothing except the soul's response&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No it's gonna be no, no way&lt;br /&gt;She's going to make it backward&lt;br /&gt;So brother we'll see&lt;br /&gt;No it's gonna be no, no way&lt;br /&gt;But this girl drives him crazy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Non Ce Sera Non (شاب مامي - (عمري عمري&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;رانى نبغيك واللى عندى ليك&lt;br /&gt;من غيرك ما عندى والو ماعندى والو&lt;br /&gt;Pourquoi ne pas juste essayer&lt;br /&gt;ماعرفتي والو ماعرفتي والو&lt;br /&gt;وعييت نصبر عمرى ما لقيت&lt;br /&gt;فى هادا الوقت رانى مليت&lt;br /&gt;ما بكيت انا ما شفيت&lt;br /&gt;ومعاكى انتى شفت معاك المرار&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;non ce sera non pas question&lt;br /&gt;elle la fera à l'envers&lt;br /&gt;on verra mon frere&lt;br /&gt;non ce sera non pas question&lt;br /&gt;mais cette fille le rend fou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وعمرى عمرى&lt;br /&gt;وين عليك ننادى&lt;br /&gt;وسهرتينى كل ليلة عليك عيانى...دلالى&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;الهم كواني اوى ليا قلبي&lt;br /&gt;آه واللى يبغيك&lt;br /&gt;بحبك فينه وزينه فين قوليلى&lt;br /&gt;انا هبلت وما قديت&lt;br /&gt;باغى غير نشوفك ياللى غاب على&lt;br /&gt;يا عمرى ولى ولى&lt;br /&gt;قلبى ما نجم ينساك&lt;br /&gt;اتفكر فيا زمان&lt;br /&gt;من كان لامان من كان لامان&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;non ce sera non pas question&lt;br /&gt;elle la fera à l'envers&lt;br /&gt;on verra mon frere&lt;br /&gt;non ce sera non pas question&lt;br /&gt;mais cette fille le rend fou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Calme tes sentiments, calme ton arrogance&lt;br /&gt;calme toi si tu mens, calme ton insolence&lt;br /&gt;tu vas courir, tu vas trimer, faut que tu comprennes un peu&lt;br /&gt;qu'une femme comme elle cherche trop l'oseille, t'eteindra a petit feu&lt;br /&gt;tu vas souffrir vu la pression, mais realise un peu&lt;br /&gt;qu'une femme comme elle te fera de la peine, te tuera a petit feu&lt;br /&gt;Calme tes sentiments, calme ton arrogance&lt;br /&gt;calme toi si tu mens, calme ton insolence&lt;br /&gt;tu vas courir, tu vas trimer, faut que tu comprennes un peu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;non ce sera non pas question&lt;br /&gt;elle la fera à l'envers&lt;br /&gt;on verra mon frere&lt;br /&gt;non ce sera non pas question&lt;br /&gt;mais cette fille le rend fou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وعمرى عمرى&lt;br /&gt;وين عليك ننادى&lt;br /&gt;وسهرتينى كل ليلة عليك عيانى...دلالى&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;كى ندير القلب اللى يعانى&lt;br /&gt;كى ندير اللى اعطته ليا&lt;br /&gt;وراه يبكى وينوح&lt;br /&gt;ومالقاش اللى ترد الروح&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;non ce sera non pas question&lt;br /&gt;elle la fera à l'envers&lt;br /&gt;on verra mon frere&lt;br /&gt;non ce sera non pas question&lt;br /&gt;mais cette fille le rend fou&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-1293079759280391642?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/1293079759280391642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/05/cheb-mami-no-its-gonna-be-no-my-life-my.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1293079759280391642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/1293079759280391642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/05/cheb-mami-no-its-gonna-be-no-my-life-my.html' title='Cheb Mami - No, It&apos;s Gonna Be No (My Life My Life)&lt;br&gt;Non Ce Sera Non (Omri Omri)'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-2812920859890835724</id><published>2007-05-25T23:56:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-05-28T16:18:08.005+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Algerian'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khaled'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Raï'/><title type='text'>Khaled - Le jour viendraThe Day Will Come</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ucmap7dByqs"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ucmap7dByqs" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheb Khaled - The Day Will Come&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the night was outstretching its arms to cradle the day&lt;br /&gt;And the shadows of our footsteps were walking to the rhythm of love&lt;br /&gt;The fire was playing in the water as brothers do&lt;br /&gt;Was it true or was it a dream?&lt;br /&gt;Oh the day will come&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The big lions calmed down were drinking near the gazelles&lt;br /&gt;The tempests were rising to quench the embers&lt;br /&gt;I have seen flowers in the middle of a desert&lt;br /&gt;Is it the truth or just another chimera?&lt;br /&gt;Oh the day will come&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have seen the summer self effaced in salute of September&lt;br /&gt;The instruments tuning up to invent together&lt;br /&gt;Rainbows illuminating storms&lt;br /&gt;Was I asleep?&lt;br /&gt;Was it only a mirage ?&lt;br /&gt;Oh the day will come&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If God made us hands, it is only to caress&lt;br /&gt;If he made arms, it is to protect&lt;br /&gt;Our brain to invent and our voices to sing&lt;br /&gt;Change dreams into reality&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have seen stones softer than the softest velvet&lt;br /&gt;And thorns dying at the first words of love&lt;br /&gt;I have seen the peace blessing my beloved country&lt;br /&gt;Was it true or was it only a dream ?&lt;br /&gt;Oh the day will come, the day will come…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Cheb Khaled - Le Jour Viendra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et la nuit tendait les bras pour y bercer le jour&lt;br /&gt;Et les ombres de nos pas marchaient au pas de l'amour&lt;br /&gt;Le feu jouait dans l'eau comme jouent des frères&lt;br /&gt;Etait-ce vrai ou bien n'était-ce qu'un rêve ?&lt;br /&gt;Oh... Le jour viendra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les grands lions apaisés buvaient près des gazelles&lt;br /&gt;Les tempêtes se levaient pour éteindre les braises&lt;br /&gt;J'ai vu des fleurs au beau milieu d'un désert&lt;br /&gt;La vérité ou juste une autre chimère ?&lt;br /&gt;Mmm... Le jour viendra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai vu l'été s'effacer en saluant septembre&lt;br /&gt;Les instruments s'accorder pour inventer ensemble&lt;br /&gt;Des arcs-en-ciel illuminer des orages&lt;br /&gt;Etais-je endormi, n'était-ce qu'un mirage ?&lt;br /&gt;Oh... Le jour viendra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si Dieu nous a fait des mains ce n'est que pour caresser&lt;br /&gt;S'il a fait des bras c'est pour protéger&lt;br /&gt;Nos cerveaux pour inventer et nos voix pour chanter&lt;br /&gt;Changer les rêves en réalité&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai vu des cailloux plus doux que le plus doux des velours&lt;br /&gt;Et des épines mourir au premier des mots d'amour&lt;br /&gt;J'ai vu la paix bénir mon pays que j'aime&lt;br /&gt;Etait-ce vrai ou bien n'était-ce qu'un rêve ?&lt;br /&gt;Oh... Le jour viendra Le jour viendra Le jour viendra Le jour viendra Le jour viendra Le jour viendra...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-2812920859890835724?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/2812920859890835724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/05/cheb-khaled-day-will-come-and-night-was.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2812920859890835724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2812920859890835724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/05/cheb-khaled-day-will-come-and-night-was.html' title='Khaled - Le jour viendra&lt;br&gt;The Day Will Come'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-2158268602750067260</id><published>2007-05-25T23:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-05-28T21:23:20.253+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Algerian'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khaled'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='French'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Raï'/><title type='text'>Khaled - Aicha  Aicha</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pa5-BgU86LY"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pa5-BgU86LY" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Khaled - Aicha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As if I don't exist&lt;br /&gt;She was passing by me&lt;br /&gt;With no regard, the Queen of Sheeba&lt;br /&gt;I said, Aicha, take this, all of it is for you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here, the pearls, the jewels,&lt;br /&gt;also the gold around your neck&lt;br /&gt;The fruits, well ripe with the taste of honey&lt;br /&gt;And my life, Aisha if you love me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will go where your breath leads me,&lt;br /&gt;In the countries of ivory and ebony&lt;br /&gt;I will erase your tears, your sorrows&lt;br /&gt;Nothing is too beautifull for a girl so beautiful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aicha, Aicha listen to me&lt;br /&gt;Aicha, Aicha don't go&lt;br /&gt;Aicha, Aicha look at me&lt;br /&gt;Aicha, Aicha answer me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would say the words, the poems&lt;br /&gt;I would play the music of the sky&lt;br /&gt;I would take the rays of the sun&lt;br /&gt;to light up your dreamy eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ooh! Aicha, Aicha listen to me&lt;br /&gt;Aicha, Aicha don't go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said: "Keep your treasures,&lt;br /&gt;Me, I'm worth more than that.&lt;br /&gt;Bars are still bars even if made of gold.&lt;br /&gt;I want the same rights as you&lt;br /&gt;and respect for each day,&lt;br /&gt;Me I want only love."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(In Arabic)&lt;br /&gt;I want you Aicha and I'd die for you&lt;br /&gt;You are master of my life and my love&lt;br /&gt;You are my years and my life&lt;br /&gt;I hope to live with you, only you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;خالد - عائشة&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comme si je n'existais pas,&lt;br /&gt;elle est passée à côté de moi&lt;br /&gt;Sans un regard, reine de Saba,&lt;br /&gt;j'ai dit, Aïcha, prends, tout est pour toi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voici, les perles, les bijoux,&lt;br /&gt;aussi l'or autour de ton cou&lt;br /&gt;Les fruits, biens mûrs au goût de miel,&lt;br /&gt;ma vie, Aicha si tu m'aimes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'irai où ton souffle nous mène,&lt;br /&gt;dans les pays d'ivoire et d’ébène&lt;br /&gt;J'effacerais tes larmes, tes peines,&lt;br /&gt;rien n'est trop beau pour une si belle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aïcha, Aïcha écoute-moi,&lt;br /&gt;Aïcha, Aïcha t'en vas pas,&lt;br /&gt;Aïcha, Aïcha regarde moi,&lt;br /&gt;Aïcha, Aïcha reponds-moi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je dirais les mots les poèmes,&lt;br /&gt;je jouerais les musiques du ciel,&lt;br /&gt;je prendrais les rayons du soleil,&lt;br /&gt;pour élairer tes yeux de rêves&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oooh! Aïcha, Aïcha écoute-moi,&lt;br /&gt;Aïcha, Aïcha t'en vas pas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elle a dit: "Garde tes trésors,&lt;br /&gt;moi, je vaux mieux que tout ça.&lt;br /&gt;Des barreaux sont des barreaux même en or&lt;br /&gt;Je veux les mêmes droits que toi&lt;br /&gt;Et du respect pour chaque jour,&lt;br /&gt;moi je ne veux que l'amour"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;نبغيك عايشة ونموت عليك&lt;br /&gt;هادي سيدة حياتي وحبي&lt;br /&gt;انت عمري وانت حياتي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;تمنيت نعيش معك غير انت&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-2158268602750067260?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/2158268602750067260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/05/khaled-aicha-as-if-i-dont-exist-she-was.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2158268602750067260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/2158268602750067260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/05/khaled-aicha-as-if-i-dont-exist-she-was.html' title='Khaled - Aicha &lt;br&gt; Aicha'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2554218064670200761.post-174023710500857368</id><published>2007-05-25T23:18:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-05-28T16:20:51.997+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Natacha Atlas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='World Music'/><title type='text'>Natacha Atlas - My Friend the Rose  Mon Amie La Rose</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EJnN3JXNfSs"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EJnN3JXNfSs" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natacha Atlas - My Friend the Rose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are fleeting&lt;br /&gt;And my friend the rose told me that this morning&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the dawn I was born&lt;br /&gt;Baptized with dew&lt;br /&gt;I blossomed&lt;br /&gt;Happy and amorous&lt;br /&gt;In the ray of the sun&lt;br /&gt;I closed at night&lt;br /&gt;I woke up old&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though I was beautiful&lt;br /&gt;Yes I was the most beautiful flower in your garden&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at the god that made me&lt;br /&gt;Make me bow my head and I feel I am falling&lt;br /&gt;My heart is almost naked&lt;br /&gt;I have one foot in the grave&lt;br /&gt;I already no longer exist&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You admired me yesterday and I will be dust forever tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moon stayed by the side of with my friend this night&lt;br /&gt;In a dream I have seen, blinding and naked&lt;br /&gt;Her soul that was dancing far beyond the highest clouds&lt;br /&gt;And it was smiling at me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Believe the one who wants to believe&lt;br /&gt;I need hope, otherwise I am nothing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Natacha Atlas - Mon Amie La Rose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On est bien peu de choses&lt;br /&gt;et mon amie la rose me l'a dit ce matin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A l'aurore je suis née&lt;br /&gt;Baptisée de rosées&lt;br /&gt;Je me suis épanouie&lt;br /&gt;heureuse et amoureuse&lt;br /&gt;au rayon du soleil,&lt;br /&gt;je me suis fermée la nuit,&lt;br /&gt;je me suis réveillée vieille.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pourtant j'étais très belle,&lt;br /&gt;oui j'étais la plus belle des fleurs de ton jardin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vois le Dieu qui m'a faite,&lt;br /&gt;me fait courber la tête et je sens que je tombe et je sens que je tombe,&lt;br /&gt;mon coeur est presque nu,&lt;br /&gt;j'ai le pied dans la tombe,&lt;br /&gt;déjà je ne suis plus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tu m'admirais hier et je serai poussière pour toujours demain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La lune cette nuit a veillé mon amie,&lt;br /&gt;moi en rêve j'ai vu éblouissante et nue&lt;br /&gt;son âme qui dansait bien au-delà des nues&lt;br /&gt;et qui me souriait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Croit celui qui veut croire,&lt;br /&gt;moi j'ai besoin d'espoir sinon je ne suis rien&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2554218064670200761-174023710500857368?l=frenchlations.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/feeds/174023710500857368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/05/natacha-atlas-my-friend-rose-mon-amie.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/174023710500857368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2554218064670200761/posts/default/174023710500857368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://frenchlations.blogspot.com/2007/05/natacha-atlas-my-friend-rose-mon-amie.html' title='Natacha Atlas - My Friend the Rose &lt;br&gt; Mon Amie La Rose'/><author><name>Camille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882983606226623539</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
