Paroles et traduction Hugues Aufray - Le Petit Ane Gris

Le Petit Ane Gris

Écoutez cette histoire
Que l'on m'a racontée
Du fond de ma mémoire
Je vais vous la chanter

Elle se passe en Provence
Au milieu des moutons
Dans le sud de la France
Au pays des santons

Dans le sud de la France
Au pays des santons

Quand il vint au domaine
Y avait un beau troupeau
Les étables étaient pleines
De brebis et d'agneaux

Marchant toujours en tête
Aux premières lueurs
Pour tirer sa charrette
Il mettait tout son cœur

Pour tirer sa charrette
Il mettait tout son cœur

Au temps des transhumances
Il s'en allait heureux
Remontant la Durance
Honnête et courageux

Mais un jour, de Marseille
Des messieurs sont venus
La ferme était bien vieille
Alors on l'a vendue

La ferme était bien vieille
Alors on l'a vendue

Il resta au village
Tout le monde l'aimait bien
Vaillant, malgré son âge
Et malgré son chagrin

Image d'évangile
Vivant d'humilité
Il se rendait utile
Auprés du cantonnier

Il se rendait utile
Auprés du cantonnier

Cette vie honorable
Un soir, s'est terminée
Dans le fond d'une étable
Tout seul il s'est couché

Pauvre bête de somme
Il a fermé les yeux
Abandonné des hommes
Il est mort sans adieux

Abandonné des hommes
Il est mort sans adieux

Cette chanson sans gloire
Vous racontait la vie
Vous racontait l'histoire
D'un petit âne gris

The Little Grey Donkey

Listen to this story, my dear,
That someone told to me.
From the depths of my memory,
I'm going to sing it to thee.

It takes place in Provence, love,
Amidst the woolly sheep.
In the south of France, my dove,
Where the santons softly sleep.

In the south of France, my sweet,
Where the santons softly sleep.

When he came to the domain, dear,
There was a handsome flock to see.
The stables were completely full, my dear,
Of ewes and lambs, happy and free.

Always walking at the head, my love,
At the very first light of day.
To pull his cart, my little dove,
He put his whole heart in the fray.

To pull his cart, my sweet,
He put his whole heart in the fray.

In the time of transhumance, dear,
He went away so happy and bright.
Going up the Durance, my dear,
Honest and courageous, a noble knight.

But one day, from Marseille, my love,
Some gentlemen came to call.
The farm was very old, my dove,
So they sold it, lock, stock, and all.

The farm was very old, my sweet,
So they sold it, lock, stock, and all.

He stayed in the village, dear,
Everyone loved him, it's true.
Valiant, despite his age, my dear,
And despite his sorrow, too.

Image of the gospel, my love,
Living in humility.
He made himself useful, my dove,
Helping the roadmender, you see.

He made himself useful, my sweet,
Helping the roadmender, you see.

This honorable life, dear,
One evening, came to an end.
In the back of a stable, my dear,
All alone, he lay down to mend.

Poor beast of burden, my love,
He closed his eyes and drifted to sleep.
Abandoned by men, my dove,
He died without a goodbye to weep.

Abandoned by men, my sweet,
He died without a goodbye to weep.

This song without glory, dear,
Told you the life, so bittersweet.
Told you the story, my dear,
Of a little grey donkey, small and neat.