Текст и перевод песни Georges Brassens - Lèche-cocu

Lèche-cocu

Comme il chouchoutait les maris
Qu′il les couvrait de flatteries
Quand il en pinçait pour leurs femmes
Qu'il avait des cornes au cul
On l′appelait lèche-cocu
Oyez tous son histoire infâme
Si l'mari faisait du bateau
Il lui parlait de tirant d'eau
De voiles, de mâts de misaine
De yacht, de brick et de steamer
Lui, qui souffrait du mal de mer
En passant les ponts de la Seine
Si l′homme était un peu bigot
Lui qui sentait fort le fagot
Criblait le ciel de patenôtres
Communiait à grand fracas
Retirant même en certains cas
L′pain bénit d'la bouche d′un autre
Si l'homme était sergent de ville
En sautoir, mon Dieu, que c′est vil
Il portait un flic en peluche
Lui qui, sans ménager sa voix
Criait "Mort aux vaches" autrefois
Même atteint de la coqueluche
Si l'homme était un militant
Il prenait sa carte à l′instant
Pour bien se mettre dans sa manche
Biffant ses propres graffiti
Du vendredi, le samedi
Ceux du samedi, le dimanche
Et si l'homme était dans l'armée
Il entonnait pour le charmer
"Sambre-et-Meuse" et tout le folklore
Lui, le pacifiste bêlant
Qui fabriquait des cerfs-volants
Avec le drapeau tricolore
Eh bien, ce malheureux tocard
Faisait tout ça veinement, car
Étant comme cul et chemise
Avec les maris, il ne put
Jamais parvenir à son but
Toucher à la fesse promise
Ravis, ces messiers talonnaient
Ce bougre qui les flagornait
À la ville comme à la campagne
Ne lui laissant pas l′occasion
De se trouver, quelle dérision
Seul à seul avec leurs compagnes
Et nous, copains, cousins, voisins
Profitant, on n′est pas des saints
De ce que ces deux imbéciles
Se passaient rhubarbe et séné
On s'partageait leurs dulcinées
Qui se laissaient faire, dociles
Et tandis que Lèche-cocu
Se prosternait, cornes au cul
Devant ses éventuelles victimes
Par surcroît, l′on couchait aussi
La morale était sauve ainsi
Avec sa femme légitime

Cuckold-Kisser

How he flattered husbands
Covering them with flattery
When he was interested in their wives
He had horns on his ass
We called him Cuckold-Kisser
Hear all his infamous stories
If the husband went boating
He would talk to him about the draft
Of sails, masts, and staysails
Of yachts, brigs, and steamers
Him, who suffered from seasickness
Crossing the bridges of the Seine
If the man was a little bigoted
Him, who smelled of fagots
Lampooning heaven with curses
Communing with great fanfare
Even taking in some cases
The blessed bread from the mouth of another
If the man was a policeman
In uniform, my God, how vile it is
He would wear a toy cop
Him, who, never holding back his voice
Cried "Death to the cows" in the past
Even when afflicted with whooping cough
If the man was an activist
He would take out his card in an instant
To get in his good graces
Crossing out his own graffiti
On Friday, on Saturday
Those of Saturday, on Sunday
And if the man was in the army
He would sing for him to charm him
"Sambre-et-Meuse" and all the folklore
Him, the bleating pacifist
Who made kites
With the tricolor flag
Well, this unfortunate sucker
Did all this in vain, because
Being like hand and glove
With the husbands, he could never
Attain his goal
To touch the promised cheek
Delighted, these gentlemen showered
This fellow who flattered them
In the city as in the countryside
Not leaving him the opportunity
To find himself, what a mockery
Alone with their companions
And we, friends, cousins, neighbors
Taking advantage, we're not saints
Of what these two fools
Were exchanging rhubarb and senna
We shared their sweethearts
Who let themselves go, docile
And while Cuckold-Kisser
Prostrated himself, antlers on his ass
Before his eventual victims
To boot, we also slept
Morality was thus saved
With his legitimate wife