Le Petit Homme (Live A Lausanne 1946 - 1947) - Edith Piaf Übersetzung ins Englische

Le Petit Homme (Live A Lausanne 1946 - 1947)

Il y avait de tous les jours,
Il y avait le chahut des carrefours
Et puis les gens qui achetaient leurs journaux
Et puis tous ceux qui prenaient le m? tro,
Il y avait la parade des boulevards,
Les boniments du vieux camelot bavard
Et se mirant dans l'eau sale des ruisseaux,
Le ciel d'avril qui faisait le gros dos.
Il y avait un petit homme
Qui s'en allait? pas compt? s.
Il avait l'air bien? conome,
Le petit homme...
Avec son vieux veston r? p?
Mais il avait une ma? tresse
Qui lui co? tait beaucoup d'argent.
Elle lui vendait sa belle jeunesse
Et des caresses
Que le petit homme payait comptant...
Il y avait sa vie des samedis soirs.
Il y avait l'escalier, le couloir.
Il y avait la porte tout au bout
Et puis deux bras attach? s? son cou.
Il y avait des fleurs sur le piano.
Il y avait la blancheur des rideaux
Et puis des heures sur le grand divan bleu
Et puis tout? a qui le rendait heureux.
Il y a eu la porte close
Avec un mot pass? dessous,
Joli papier bord? de roses
Pour dire des choses
Que l'on comprend du premier coup.
Un petit homme qu'on abandonne
Ne peut rien faire que s'en aller.
Dans la rue froide o? tout r? sonne
Et sans personne
Tout? fait seul, pour mieux pleurer.
Il y avait la vie de tous les jours
Qui continuait sa fanfare de toujours.
Il y avait les valses des phonos
Qui? clataient en sortant des bistrots.
Il y avait un gar? on qui chantait.
Il y avait une fille qui riait
Et puis la ronde de l'amour merveilleux
Et le petit homme
Qui pleurait au milieu...

The Little Man (Live In Lausanne 1946 - 1947)

There were everydays,
There was the hubbub of the crossroads
And then the people who were buying their newspapers
And then all those who were taking the metro,
There was the parade of the boulevards,
The spiel of the old, talkative peddler
And mirroring itself in the dirty water of the streams,
The April sky that was putting on airs.
There was a little man
Who was leaving? aimlessly.
He seemed rather thrifty,
The little man...
With his old patched-up jacket
But he had a mistress
Who was costing him a lot of money.
She was selling him her beautiful youth
And caresses
That the little man was paying for in cash...
There was his Saturday night life.
There was the stairway, the corridor.
There was the door at the end
And then two arms clinging to his neck.
There were flowers on the piano.
There was the whiteness of the curtains
And then hours on the big blue sofa
And then everything that made him happy.
There was the closed door
With a note slipped underneath,
Pretty paper edged with roses
To say things
That one understands at first glance.
A little man who is abandoned
Can do nothing but leave.
In the cold street where everything echoes
And without anyone
All alone, to cry better.
There was everyday life
That continued its usual fanfare.
There were the waltzes of the jukeboxes
That burst forth from the bars.
There was a young man who was singing.
There was a girl who was laughing
And then the round of wonderful love
And the little man
Who was crying in the middle of it all...