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Lucette Raillat - La môme aux boutons versuri traducere în engleză




English
Translation

The button gal





She was running her small business
Close to Pont des Arts
People could see the poor gal
Early in the morning and late at night
With a very gentle smile
She would offer, with her little hand
Little pretty buttons for pants
That she would sell for just a few cents
 

She is the button gal
The pants button gal
Poor pale gal
Who vended without fuss
Who vended buttons
To save–what an apostle–
All the others' pants
And earn her living
 

She had buttons of all colors
Of all sizes, of all shapes
She had humongous black ones
And small white ones with flowers
She even had transparent ones
With idyllic reflections
She also had metallic ones
That would quickly come apart
 

She is the button gal
The pants button gal
Poor pale gal
Who vended without fuss
Who vended buttons
For the silk of fashion-conscious belles
Or the fabric of light shirts
Button taine-ton-ton
 

But, alas, the fate of the button
Is similar to that of the roses
Poor flowers that, barely bloomed
Are teased by the bumblebee
She gave her heart and her flesh
To a seemingly nice dude
But who one day confessed cynically
- I'm into slide fasteners!
 

And the button gal
The pants button gal
Poor pale gal
Lost all reason
Lost all reason
In front of the dreadful dilemma
To leave the one she loves
Or betray her buttons
 

Her life became a drama then
Nightmares haunted her mind
So much so she got chickenpox
And had zits all over her body
But he, mercilessly, continued
His zipper business, and Claire
–Our worker was named Claire–
Claire, thus, felt she was about to break
 

And the button gal
The pants button gal
On a pale night
Died without ceremony
So, the dude thought it was good - good
Him, the man without tenderness
When the mass collection came around
To throw in a - oh!
 

To throw in a hundred francs bill
To celebrate this adventure properly
To throw in a hundred francs bill
Boy, was the priest ever happy - Bang!
 




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17.03.2025

Our World is Beautiful (Villagers' Reprise)





From the highest point in the sky (To the end of the mines)
Where is the spark? (That illuminates us)
 

What did it look like?
If only we knew
If only this kingdom
Would become beautiful again
 


17.03.2025

Rain





Struggled, waiting for sun
The city tired of rains
You slept, crying, swallowing blood
When the dawn was seen on the horizon
 

I never complaint about fate
Even if it turned my morning into evening
With this evening, it brought
My heart that was left away
 

Little by little, it rained
My heart shattered into little pieces
When it became morning againi
'Do you love me?' - I asked
 

You never asked for anything
You admired my eyebrows and eyes a thousand times
Stroking your black hair,
I lost myself this night
 

Struggled, waiting for sun
The city tired of rains
Where do you go, swallowing blood?
Where would the dawn lead me?
 


17.03.2025

Sawah Lettuces





Sawah lettuces spread out all over the ricefields
Sawah lettuces spread out all over the ricefields
The boy's mother came by to pick some sawah lettuce
The boy's mother came by to pick some sawah lettuce
Without looking, she grabbed a bunch and left
The sawah lettuces has now been brought back home
 

In the morning, the sawah lettuces are sold at the market
In the morning, the sawah lettuces are sold at the market
Laid out in rows, all tied up as well to be sold
Laid out in rows, all tied up as well to be sold
The girl's mother bought some while carrying a woven basket
The sawah lettuces are now ready to be cooked
 

Sawah lettuces are placed in a pot of boiling water
Sawah lettuces are placed in a pot of boiling water
Half-cooked, it's then strained to be eaten as a side dish
Half-cooked, it's then strained to be eaten as a side dish
With two plates of rice and nasnaran, sitting on a divan
The sawah lettuce is eaten with rice
 


17.03.2025

The Little Bunch of Rushes





O maiden of the finest rushes1
What a pity for you that my bundle has come undone
Would you come with me, just the two of us
Under the bank of the wood with the brightest flowers
No priest would ever hear of it
Nor any living soul
Until the birds start to talk in human language
And the blackbird starts speaking Greek.
 

I’ve no stockings nor shoes
Not even a stool to sit down on
I haven't a penny in the whole wide world
Unless Jesus Christ should take pity on me
My trousers are threadbare
And as you know, my blanket is worn out
Yet still there are plenty of women in the taverns
Who chase after me just for the price of a drink
 

Oh, did you think to entice me, young man
With your flattery? Well, it did you no good
There’s many a sensible girl
Carrying a load who has been led astray
But I myself would rather carry heavy loads
And drag them till the day I die
Than have your child on my knee
Asking for news of you when you're nowhere to be found
 
  • 1. Rushes are a kind of grass-like plant used to make floor coverings and furniture, traditionally collected by young women. The motif of gathering rushes often has sexual connotation in folk songs of the British Isles and Ireland in both English and Irish. This song is no exception.