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Jacques Prévert - La grasse matinée versuri traducere în engleză


A plentiful morning

1It is so frightful, the noise
of a hardboiled egg being shelled against a pewter counter.
That noise is so frightful
when it stirs in the memories of the hungry man.
It is frightful too, the head of the man
the head of the hungry man
when it's 6AM and he looks at his reflection
in the window of the department store.
A head the color of dust.
Still, it's not at his own head he's looking at
in the grocery's2 window.
The man does not give a damn about his head.
He doesn't think about it.
He's musing.
He pictures another head.
A calf's head3 for instance,
served with vinegar sauce,
or the head of anything edible,
and he gently works his jaw,
gently,
and he grinds his teeth gently,
because the whole world is taking the mickey4 out of him
and he can't defend against this world,
and he's counting on his fingers: one, two, three.
One, two, three,
it's been three days since he last ate.
And though he keeps saying to himself
it can't go on like this,
it does go on.
Three days,
three nights
with nothing to eat,
and behind these windows,
these patés, these bottles, these jars,
dead fishes preserved by cans,
cans sheltered by windows,
windows watched over by cops
cops protected by fear.
So many barricades for a mere half-dozen sardines...
A bit further away, the bar,
flat white and hot croissants.
The man staggers
and inside his head
a haze of words
a haze of words
sardines to eat,
hardboiled egg, flat white
coffee spiked with rhum
flat white
flat white
bled white sprinkled with blood!...
A gentleman well esteemed in his neighbourhood
had his throat slit in broad daylight.
The murderer, a tramp, robbed him
of two francs,
that is a liqueur coffee:
zero dot seventy francs,
two buttered slices of bread
and twenty five cents for the waiter's tip.
It is so frightful, the noise
of a hardboiled egg being shelled against a pewter counter.
That noise is so frightful
when it stirs in the memories of the hungry man.
 
  • 1. 'grasse matinée' (lit. 'fat morning') means 'a lie-in', but here it can be understood as 'a morning with plenty to eat'
  • 2. 'Félix Potin' was a popular grocery franchise
  • 3. Calf head is a popular dish made of chopped and jellied calf meat, including parts of the head, usually served warm with a vinegar sauce
  • 4. the French idiom uses 'head'
Do whatever you want with my translations. I'm not rich enough to sue you anyway.


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01.02.2025

Doctor Faust





Oh, Doctor Faust
Behind you, do you see all these years you've spent wasting your life?
It's time for you to let yourself live life
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
Diving like this into dead languages, that's not life
If you spend time with them, living languages will revive you
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
Science is a well where you drown yourself, if you want my opinion
Descend into the well of pleasure because that's life
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
Leave your Talmudic and astrologic studies behind
Instead, prepare a thesis on my anatomy
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
Throw your books away, forget Latin, smile at live
In my arms, you'll get to know love and life
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
I like your physique, leave physics behind, discover life
Looking together, in physical love, the meaning of life
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
 

Oh, Doctor Faust
I like your physique, leave physics behind, discover life
Looking together, in physical love, the meaning of life
 


01.02.2025

On board of the Aspasia





You traveled in pursuit of your destiny
To white but mournful Switzerland
Always in the deck in a chez-lung downstairs
by the familiar and saddest cause
 

Always restlessly your folks have been prowling around
But you, staring at the wings, were indifferent
You laughed bitterly at what they said because you felt
That you were travelling to the land of death
 

One night when we were passing through Stroboli
You said to some laughing man in a joking tone:
'How my sick body looks as it burns,
to the flaming top of the volcano!'
 

Then I saw you in Marcilia as you were lost
in the noise without turning back
And I who loved only the wet expanse,
I say I could love thee
 


01.02.2025

Gramophonomaniac





In room of miss Janka
winders and curtains tremble
Like in a fury there a gramophone plays
Because miss Janka is a gramophone maniac
From morning to morning constantly plays.
Syrena’s records are still brought by miss Janka,
She puts all of her money in it and continues to sing
 

And I play on gramophone
trali tralalla la, trali
tralalla la
In winter at home, in the summer on the balcony
trali tralalla la, gramophone plays
And nothing worries me,
I have Syrena’s records
When something annoys me - I play on the gramophone
Because when I play on the gramophone
then in gramophone I have my all concerns
 

Neighbours of miss Janka, their wives and lovers declared, not being able to sleep at night:
We have enough of miss Janka,
that gramophone maniac,
the police needs to know about it
But when the officer came, miss Janka says
What to do, man, understand I’m afraid to sleep alone
 

And when I play on the gramophone
trali tralalla la, trali
tralalla la
In winter at home, in the summer on the balcony
trali tralalla la, gramophone plays
And nothing worries me,
I have Syrena’s records
When something annoys me then I play on the gramophone
Because when I play on the gramophone
then in gramophone I have all of my concerns
 

As soon as the strict officer heard it himself and wanted to give advice to the poor maiden
He says to miss Janka, that gramophone maniac
„A pity, I will sleep here”
And since then every night from miss Janka’s room
The bas of officer makes the curtains tremble
 

And I play on gramophone
trali tralalla la, trali
tralalla la
In winter at home, in the summer on the balcony
trali tralalla la, gramophone plays
And nothing worries me,
I have Syrena’s records
When something annoys me - I play on the gramophone
Because when I play on the gramophone
then in gramophone I have my all concerns
 


singable
01.02.2025

At the End of the Park





When sunset
makes the sky grow pale,
from the window,
I look around me.
 

At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me
like one evening
a year ago.
 

I watch you from afar and
in your hand,
there's
hidden more than one caress.
 

At the end of the park, I see you
running towards me,
of course,
I know it.
 

It's only an impression,
a trick of my heart
that makes me see
all this.
 

Tenderness
is something that
grows deep
in the soul.
 

If I remember
and if only
I think about you:
 

At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me
like one evening
a year ago.
 

I watch you from afar and
in your hand,
there's
hidden more than one caress.
 

At the end of the park, I see you
running towards me
and this time,
I know it.
 

You're no longer an impression,
a trick of my heart,
I've found
you again.
 

(At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me
like one evening
a year ago.)
 

At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me
like one evening
a year ago.
 

At the end of the park, I see you
searching for me...