Текст и перевод песни Edith Piaf - Les roses blanches

Les roses blanches

C'était un gamin, un gosse de Paris, sa seule famille était sa mère
Une pauvre fille aux grands yeux flétris, par les chagrins et la misère
Elle aimait les fleurs, les roses surtout, et le cher bambin le dimanche
Lui apportait de belles roses blanches, au lieu d'acheter des joujoux
La câlinant bien tendrement, il disait en les lui donnant

"C'est aujourd'hui dimanche, tiens ma jolie maman
Voici des roses blanches, que ton coeur aime tant
Va quand je serai grand, j'achèterai au marchand
Toutes ces roses blanches, pour toi jolie maman"

Au dernier printemps, le destin brutal, vint frapper la blonde ouvrière
Elle tomba malade et pour l'hôpital, le gamin vit partir sa mère
Un matin d'avril parmi les promeneurs
N'ayant plus un sous dans sa poche
Sur un marché le pauvre mioche, furtivement vola des fleurs
La fleuriste l'ayant surpris, en baissant la tête, il lui dit

"C'est aujourd'hui dimanche et j'allais voir maman
J'ai pris ces roses blanches elle les aime tant
Sur son petit lit blanc, là-bas elle m'attend
J'ai pris ces roses blanches, pour ma jolie maman"

La marchande émue, doucement lui dit, "Emporte-les je te les donne"
Elle l'embrassa et l'enfant partit, tout rayonnant qu'on le pardonne
Puis à l'hôpital il vint en courant, pour offrir les fleurs à sa mère
Mais en le voyant, une infirmière, lui dit "Tu n'as plus de maman"
Et le gamin s'agenouillant dit, devant le petit lit blanc

"C'est aujourd'hui dimanche, tiens ma jolie maman
Voici des roses blanches, toi qui les aimais tant
Et quand tu t'en iras, au grand jardin là-bas
Toutes ces roses blanches, tu les emporteras"

White Roses

He was a child, a kid from Paris, his only family was his mother
A poor girl with big sad eyes, from sorrows and misery
She loved flowers, especially roses, and the adorable little boy
Would bring her white roses on Sundays, instead of buying toys
Caressing her tenderly, he'd tell her while giving them to her

"Today's Sunday, here you go my pretty mommy
These are white roses, that your heart loves so much
You'll see, when I grow up, I'll buy from the florist
All these white roses, for you my pretty mommy"

One last spring, cruel destiny came knocking at the blonde worker's door
She fell ill and the boy had to watch his mother go to the hospital
One April morning, among the pedestrians
Not having a single dime in his pocket
In a market, the poor boy stole some flowers
The florist caught him and, hanging his head, he told her

"Today's Sunday and I was going to see mommy
I took these white roses, she loves them so much
On her little white bed, she waits for me
I took these white roses, for my pretty mommy"

The moved florist gently told him, "Take them, I give them to you"
She kissed him and the child left, happy that he was forgiven
Then he ran to the hospital, to give the flowers to his mother
But on seeing him, a nurse told him, "You no longer have a mother"
And the boy fell to his knees and said in front of the little white bed

"Today's Sunday, here you go my pretty mommy
These are white roses, that your heart loves so much
And when you leave, to go to the big garden, over there
All these white roses, you'll take with you"