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Les corons

Pierre Bachelet
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OriginaleTraduzione inglese / English translation
LES CORONSTHE MINING VILLAGES
Au nord, c'étaient les corons
La terre c'était le charbon
Le ciel c'était l'horizon
Les hommes des mineurs de fond
In the North were mining villages
Underground was coal
The sky was the horizon
Men were underground miners
Nos fenêtres donnaient sur des f'nêtres semblables
Et la pluie mouillait mon cartable
Et mon père en rentrant avait les yeux si bleus
Que je croyais voir le ciel bleu
J'apprenais mes leçons, la joue contre son bras
Je crois qu'il était fier de moi
Il était généreux comme ceux du pays
Et je lui dois ce que je suis
Our windows overlooked similar windows
And rain wetted my schoolbag
But my father's eyes were so blue when he came back
That I could see the blue sky in them
I did my homework with one cheek resting on his arm
I think he was proud of me
He was bighearted as they are over there
And he made me what I am now
Au nord, c'étaient les corons
La terre c'était le charbon
Le ciel c'était l'horizon
Les hommes des mineurs de fond
In the North were mining villages
Underground was coal
The sky was the horizon
Men were underground miners
Et c'était mon enfance, et elle était heureuse
Dans la buée des lessiveuses
Et j'avais des terrils à défaut de montagnes
D'en haut je voyais la campagne
Mon père était "gueule noire" comme l'étaient ses parents
Ma mère avait les cheveux blancs
Ils étaient de la fosse, comme on est d'un pays
Grâce à eux je sais qui je suis
Such was my childhood, it was a happy one
In the mist of washtubs
And my mountains were slag heaps
From their tops I watched the countryside
My father was a miner like his parents
My mother's hair was white
They belonged to the coal pit as you belong to a country
Thanks to them I know who I am
Au nord, c'étaient les corons
La terre c'était le charbon
Le ciel c'était l'horizon
Les hommes des mineurs de fond
In the North were mining villages
Underground was coal
The sky was the horizon
Men were underground miners
Y avait à la mairie le jour de la kermesse
Une photo de Jean Jaurès
Et chaque verre de vin était un diamant rose
Posé sur fond de silicose
Ils parlaient de 36 et des coups de grisou
Des accidents du fond du trou
Ils aimaient leur métier comme on aime un pays
C'est avec eux que j'ai compris
On carnival day you could see in the townhall
A photograph of Jean Jaurès
And each glass of wine was like a pink diamond
On a background of dust disease
They talked about nineteen thirty six and firedamp
And accidents deep down the pit
They loved their job as you like a country
With them I have understood
Au nord, c'étaient les corons
La terre c'était le charbon
Le ciel c'était l'horizon
Les hommes des mineurs de fond.
In the North were mining villages
Underground was coal
The sky was the horizon
Men were underground miners
The sky was the horizon
Men were underground miners


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