Paroles et traduction Candan Erçetin - Le Meteque

Le Meteque

Avec ma gueule de métèque
De Juif errant, de pâtre grec
Et mes cheveux aux quatre vents
Avec mes yeux tout délavés
Qui me donnent l'air de rêver
Moi qui ne rêve plus souvent
Avec mes mains de maraudeur
De musicien et de rôdeur
Qui ont pillé tant de jardins
Avec ma bouche qui a bu
Qui a embrassé et mordu
Sans jamais assouvir sa faim
Bu akşam çok efkarlıyım
Kalbim neden kan ağlıyor
Bunu bir bilsen sevgilim
Güneş solgun gündüz gece
İçimde sen bir bilmece
Izdırabı heceliyor
Sensiz yalnız sensiz içim
Gözyaşlarım yağmur gibi
Yanağımı ıslatıyor
Kollarım bekliyor seni
Öpsem öpsem ellerini
Yine de sana hasretim
Dudaklarımda bir ateş
Avuçlarımda alevsin
Sensiz yalnız sensiz içim
İlahımsın sevdiğimsin
Sen benim herşeyimsin
Avec ma gueule de métèque
De Juif errant, de pâtre grec
Et mes cheveux aux quatre vents
Je viendrai, ma douce captive
Mon âme s¶ur, ma source vive
Je viendrai boire tes vingt ans
Et je serai prince de sang
Rêveur ou bien adolescent
Comme il te plaira de choisir
Et nous ferons de chaque jour
Toute une éternité d'amour
Que nous vivrons à en mourir
Et nous ferons de chaque jour
Toute une éternité d'amour
Que nous vivrons à en mourir

The Immigrant

With my face of a foreigner
Of a wandering Jew, of a Greek shepherd
And my hair in the four winds
With my washed-out eyes
That make me look like I'm dreaming
I who rarely dream anymore
With my hands of a looter
Of a musician and a wanderer
Who have plundered so many gardens
With my mouth that has drunk
That has kissed and bitten
Without ever satisfying its hunger
My heart is sorrowful, this night
Why does my heart bleed?
If only you knew, my love
The sun is pale, the day is night
You are a riddle within me
My pain is endless
Without you, I am alone, empty
My tears flow like rain
Drenching my cheeks
My arms await you
If only I could kiss your hands
But I still miss you
My lips are on fire
My palms are ablaze
Without you, I am alone, empty
You are my deity, my beloved
You are my everything
With my face of a foreigner
Of a wandering Jew, of a Greek shepherd
And my hair in the four winds
I will come, my sweet captive
My kindred spirit, my living source
I'll come to drink your twenty years
And I will be a prince of blood
A dreamer or an adolescent
As you choose to see me
And of each day, we will make
An eternity of love
That we will live to the point of death
And of each day, we will make
An eternity of love
That we will live to the point of death