Le Père Noël et la petite fille, incl.Leggenda di Natale; La canzone di Marinella; Bocca di Rosa
Georges BrassensVersion française – LA CHANSON DE MARINELLE – Marco Valdo M.I.... | |
MARINELLA'S SONG This story of Marinella is the true story, that she slipped into the river one spring. But the wind that saw her so beautiful carried her from the river onto a star. Alone with no memory of sorrow, you lived without the dream of a love. But a king, without his crown and without escort, knocked three times one day on your door. White as the moon his hat, and like the flush of love his cloak. You followed him without any reason, like a child chases after a kite. And it was sunny and your eyes were beautiful, he kissed your lips and your hair. Then came the moon and your eyes were tired, he placed his hands on your hips. There were kisses and there were smiles, then there were only fleurs-de-lis that saw with the eyes of the stars your skin trembling in the wind and the kisses. They say then that while you were returning you slipped into the river, who knows how? And he, not wanting to believe you dead, knocked a hundred years more at your door. This is your song, Marinella, that you flew to heaven on a star. And like all of the most beautiful things, you lived only one day, like the roses. And like all the most beautiful things, you lived only one day, like the roses. | LA CHANSON DE MARINELLE Voici l'histoire réelle de la belle Marinelle Qui bascula dans le fleuve au printemps Le vent qui la vit si belle à l'instant Du fleuve l'emporta dans le ciel. Tu vivais seule sans la moindre douleur Sans rêve d'amour dans ton cœur Mais un roi sans couronne et sans escorte Frappa trois fois à ta porte Blanc comme le jour Rouge comme l'amour Tu le suivis sans réfléchir Comme un enfant suit son désir Il y avait le soleil, tu avais de beaux yeux Il te baisa les lèvres, il te baisa les cheveux Il y avait la lune et tes joues blanches Il posa la main sur tes hanches Vinrent les baisers, vinrent les sourires Puis les fleurs de lys s'ouvrirent. Et les yeux des étoiles virent Sous ses baisers, ta peau frémir. Ils disent qu'en retournant Tu tombas dans le fleuve, on ne sait comment. Et lui qui ne voulut pas te croire morte Frappa cent ans encore à ta porte. Voilà l'histoire de Marinelle Sur une étoile, partie dans le ciel Et comme toutes les belles choses Tu vécus un seul jour, comme les roses. Et comme toutes les belles choses Tu vécus un seul jour, comme les roses. |