Paroles et traduction Serge Gainsbourg feat. Alain Goraguer - L'alcool

L'alcool

Mes illusions donnent sur la cour
Des horizons j'en ai pas lourd
Quand j'ai bossé toute la journée
Il m'reste plus pour rêver
Qu'les fleurs horribles de ma chambre
Mes illusions donnent sur la cour
J'ai mis une croix sur mes amours
Les p'tites pépés pour les toucher
Faut d'abord les allonger
Sinon c'est froid comme en décembre
Quand le soir venu j'm'en reviens du chantier
Après mille peines et le corps harrassé
J'ai le regard morne et les mains dégueulasses
D'quoi inciter les belles à faire la grimace
Bien sûr y'a les filles de joie sur le retour
Celles qui mâchent le chewing-gum pendant l'amour
Mais que trouverais-je dans leur coeur meurtri
Sinon qu'indifférence et mélancolie
Dans mes frusques couleur de muraille
Je joue les épouvantails
Mais nom de Dieu dans mon âme
Brûlait pourtant cette flamme
Où s'éclairaient mes amours
Et mes brèves fiançailles
Comme autant de feux de paille
Aujour'hui je fais mon chemin solitaire
Toutes mes ambitions se sont faites la paire
J'me suis laissé envahir par les orties
Par les ronces de cette chienne de vie
Mes illusions donnent sur la cour
Mais dans les troquets du faubourg
J'ai des ardoises de rêveries
Et le sens d'ironie
J'me laisse aller à la tendresse
J'oublie ma chambre au fond d'la cour
Le train de banlieue au petit jour
Et dans les vapeurs de l'alcool
J'vois mes châteaux espagnols
Mes haras et toutes mes duchesses
A moi les p'tites pépés les poupées jolies
Laissez venir à moi les petites souris
Je claque tout ce que je veux au baccara
Je tape sur le ventre des Maharajas
A moi les boîtes de nuit sud-américaines
Où l'on danse la tête vide et les mains pleines
A moi ces mignonnes au regard qui chavire
Qu'il faut agiter avant de s'en servir
Dans mes pieds-de-poule mes prince-de-galles
En douce j'me rince la dalle
Et nom de Dieu dans mon âme
V'là qu'j' ressens cette flamme
Où s'éclairaient mes amours
Et mes brèves fiançailles
Où se consumaient mes amours
Comme autant de feux de paille
Et quand les troquets ont éteint leurs néons
Qu'il n'reste plus un abreuvoir à l'horizon
Ainsi j'me laisse bercer par le calva
Et le dieu des ivrognes guide mes pas
My illusions overlook the courtyard
The horizons I have not heavy
When I worked all day
It m'reste more to dream
Qu'les flowers horrible my room
My illusions overlook the courtyard
I put a cross on my love
The p'tites pépés for touch
Should first lengthen
If it is cold as in December
When evening comes j'm'en back yard
After miles penalties and the body harrassé
I look bleak and hands dégueulasses
To encourage what beautiful to the grimace
Of course there's the girls on the return
Those who chew chewing gum for love
But what I find in their hearts bruised
Otherwise indifference and melancholy
In my frusques color wall
I play scarecrows
But the name of God in my soul
Brûlait yet this flame
Where s'éclairaient my love
And my brief engagement
Like so many fires straw
Tomorrow I make my way alone
All my ambitions have made this pair
J'me left'm overwhelmed by nettles
By the brambles of this bitch of living
My illusions overlook the courtyard
But in the suburb of troquets
I slates musings
And the sense of irony
J'me let the tenderness
I forget my room at the back of the court
The commuter train early days
And in the vapors of alcohol
J'vois my castles in Spain
My stud farm and all my duchesses
To me p'tites pépés pretty dolls
Let me come to the small mouse
I slap what I want to baccara
I slap on the belly of the Maharajas
To me nightclubs South American
Where we dance empty head and hands full
To me these cute under which capsized
The need to shake before use
In my feet-hen my prince-wales
In fresh j'me rinse slab
And the name of God in my soul
V'là qu'j 'feel this flame
Where s'éclairaient my love
And my brief engagement
Where is my love consumaient
Like so many fires straw
And when troquets have turned off their neon lights
That n'reste plus a trough on the horizon
Thus j'me leaves soothed by the calva
And the god of drunks guide my steps

The Alcohol

My illusions overlook the courtyard,
Horizons, I don't have many.
When I've worked all day long,
There's nothing left for me to dream of
But the horrible flowers in my room.
My illusions overlook the courtyard,
I've given up on love.
To touch those little dolls,
You first have to lay them down,
Otherwise, it's as cold as December.
When evening comes and I return from the construction site,
After a thousand pains and a weary body,
My gaze is dull, my hands are filthy,
Enough to make the beautiful ones grimace.
Of course, there are the girls of joy on their way out,
Those who chew gum while making love,
But what would I find in their bruised hearts
If not indifference and melancholy?
In my wall-colored clothes,
I play the scarecrow.
But by God, in my soul,
This flame still burned,
Where my loves were illuminated,
And my brief engagements,
Like so many straw fires.
Today I walk my path alone,
All my ambitions have flown away.
I let myself be invaded by nettles,
By the thorns of this bitch of a life.
My illusions overlook the courtyard,
But in the local bars,
I have slates of dreams,
And a sense of irony.
I let myself go to tenderness,
I forget my room at the back of the courtyard,
The commuter train at dawn,
And in the vapors of alcohol,
I see my castles in Spain,
My stud farms and all my duchesses.
To me, the little dolls, the pretty dolls,
Let the little mice come to me.
I spend all I want at baccarat,
I slap the bellies of the Maharajas.
To me, the South American nightclubs,
Where we dance with empty heads and full hands.
To me, those cuties with the captivating gaze,
That you have to shake before using.
In my houndstooth, my Prince of Wales,
I secretly indulge myself.
And by God, in my soul,
There I feel that flame again,
Where my loves were illuminated,
And my brief engagements,
Where my loves were consumed,
Like so many straw fires.
And when the bars have turned off their neon lights,
When there's not a single watering hole on the horizon,
So I let myself be lulled by the calvados,
And the god of drunkards guides my steps.
My illusions overlook the courtyard,
The horizons I have not heavy.
When I worked all day long,
There's nothing left for me to dream of
But the horrible flowers in my room.
My illusions overlook the courtyard,
I put a cross on my love.
To touch those little dolls,
You first have to lay them down,
Otherwise, it's as cold as December.
When evening comes and I return from the construction site,
After a thousand pains and a weary body,
My gaze is dull, my hands are filthy,
Enough to make the beautiful ones grimace.
Of course, there are the girls of joy on their way out,
Those who chew gum while making love,
But what would I find in their bruised hearts
If not indifference and melancholy?
In my wall-colored clothes,
I play the scarecrow.
But by God, in my soul,
This flame still burned,
Where my loves were illuminated,
And my brief engagements,
Like so many straw fires.
Tomorrow I make my way alone,
All my ambitions have made this pair.
I let myself be invaded by nettles,
By the thorns of this bitch of a life.
My illusions overlook the courtyard,
But in the suburb of troquets,
I slates musings,
And the sense of irony.
I let myself go to the tenderness,
I forget my room at the back of the court,
The commuter train early days,
And in the vapors of alcohol,
I see my castles in Spain,
My stud farm and all my duchesses.
To me, the little dolls, the pretty dolls,
Let me come to the small mouse.
I slap what I want to baccara,
I slap on the belly of the Maharajas.
To me, nightclubs South American,
Where we dance empty head and hands full.
To me, these cute under which capsized,
The need to shake before use.
In my feet-hen my prince-wales,
In fresh j'me rinse slab.
And the name of God in my soul,
There I feel this flame again,
Where my loves were illuminated,
And my brief engagements,
Where is my love consumaient,
Like so many fires straw.
And when troquets have turned off their neon lights,
That n'reste plus a trough on the horizon,
Thus j'me leaves soothed by the calva,
And the god of drunks guide my steps.