For French learners, here is a beautiful and moving song popular here in France. Below the lyrics in French and a translation in English find on the web (see the link).
Enjoy!
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Le Portrait
Il mélange au fond de sa tasse
Du miel
Il regarde par le vasistas
Le ciel
A chaque fois que passe un avion
Il se dit que c’est peut-être elle
Qui passe au-dessus de sa maison
On lui a dit qu’elle était au ciel
Il rêve couché sur un parquet
Dans les bras de sa mère
Dessinée à la craie
Tous les soirs en secret
Ce dessin il le fait
Trait pour trait
À partir d’un portrait
Il rêve couché sur un parquet
Dans les bras de sa mère
Dessinée à la craie
Tous les soirs en secret
Ce dessin il le fait
Trait pour trait
À partir d’un portrait
Perdu au fond de sa classe
Il s’emmêle
Il se débat avec le coriace
Pluriel
Puis il explique à sa maitresse
Pourquoi “parent” ne prend pas d’“s”
Des câlins il en voudrait tellement
Ne serait-ce qu’un par an
Il rêve couché sur un parquet
Dans les bras de sa mère
Dessinée à la craie
Tous les soirs en secret
Ce dessin il le fait
Trait pour trait
À partir d’un portrait
Il rêve couché sur un parquet
Dans les bras de sa mère
Dessinée à la craie
Tous les soirs en secret
Ce dessin il le fait
Trait pour trait
À partir d’un portrait
Il rêve couché sur un parquet
Dans les bras de sa mère
Dessinée à la craie
Tous les soirs en secret
Ce dessin il le fait
Trait pour trait
À partir d’un portrait
Trait pour trait
À partir d’un portrait
« Le portrait » nouvel extrait de l’album de Calogero « Les feux d’artifice »
Redirecting...…
http://po.st/LesFeuxDartificeItunes
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The portrait
He is mixing at the bottom of his cup some honey.
He is looking, through the fanlight at the sky.
Each time an airplane flies, he thinks maybe it’s her who passes above his house.
They’ve told him she was in the sky ( = heaven)
He is dreaming, lying on the floor in his mother’s arms, his mother drawn in chalk.
Every night, secretly he makes this drawing, perfectly similar to her from a portrait (of her)
He is dreaming, lying on the floor in his mother’s arms, his mother drawn in chalk.
Every night, secretly he makes this drawing, perfectly similar to her from a portrait (of her)
Lost at the back of the classroom he gets confused,
He struggles with the tough plural form,
Then he explains to his teacher why “parent” doesn’t have an s"
He would like to be hugged so much even only one hug per year would be great
He is dreaming, lying on the floor in his mother’s arms, his mother drawn in chalk.
Every night, secretly he makes this drawing, perfectly similar to her from a portrait (of her)
He is dreaming, lying on the floor in his mother’s arms, his mother drawn in chalk.
Every night, secretly he makes this drawing, perfectly similar to her from a portrait (of her)
He is dreaming, lying on the floor in his mother’s arms, his mother drawn in chalk.
Every night, secretly he makes this drawing, perfectly similar to her from a portrait (of her)
He is dreaming, lying on the floor in his mother’s arms, his mother drawn in chalk.
Every night, secretly he makes this drawing, perfectly similar to her from a portrait (of her)
Publié par Elmi le Jeu, 08/01/2015 - 21:03
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