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Téléphone - versuri traducere în engleză


English (poetic)
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Hygiaphone

Hidden behind your counter
plywood, chipboard,
linoleum,
PTT office 1
all the holy day,
I can't wait to talk with you.
I want a hundred bullets stamp2
or I want to pass a call.
Give me a little golden ticket instead3
to go for a walk.
 
Speak,
speak into the hygiaphone.4
You don't have to ring the bell
ask on the intercom.
If you desire someone,
pick up your phone,
phone, phone!
 
Dance!
Let play your turntable.
You don't have to yell
ask the megaphone.
Soon at the other bottom of the line,
you won't have anyone anymore.
 
Like that, to look at each other
each on each side,
we look like a grouper 5
stuck in the aquarium.
But between us, it will be necessary
I break the plexiglass
and that one day, Granny,
I'm talking to your face,
that I tell you the story
of a small holey ticket 6
which never really walked
to go for a walk.
 
Speak,
speak into the hygiaphone.
You don't have to ring the bell
ask on the intercom.
If you desire someone,
pick up your phone,
phone, phone!
 
Dance!
Let play your turntable.
You don't have to yell
ask the megaphone.
Soon at the other bottom of the line,
you won't have anyone anymore.
 
Dance!
Soon at the other bottom of the line,
you won't have anyone anymore!
Soon at the other bottom of the line,
you won't have anyone anymore!
Soon at the other bottom of the line,
you won't have anyone anymore!
At the other bottom of the line,
you won't have anyone anymore!
At the other bottom of the line,
you won't have anyone anymore!
Soon at the other bottom of the line,
you won't have anyone anymore!
 
  • 1. Post & Telecommunications Office
  • 2. '100 balles' (bullets) is slang language of the 70, 80s in France to designate '1 franc' - 1 franc was the equivalent of 0,15 Euro of today - this was the price of a stand stamp at that time in France
  • 3. Metro tickets were yellow with a brown magnetic stripe in the middle at that time
  • 4. a two-way communication device placed on the glass that separates the receptionist from the customer
  • 5. fish with big round eyes
  • 6. at the time of the song, metro tickets were punched by a 'punchman' - 'poinçonneur' in French - who, with his little hand machine, made a round hole in the ticket with the day and hour printed to validate the trip before entering the metro train


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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...