Текст и перевод песни Mathieu Boogaerts - Le glorieux

Le glorieux

Il arrive en ville de son voyage
Il arrive seul sans bagage, sans bagage, sans bagage
Toute la foule se bouscule à son passage
Toute la foule se rappelle son visage, son visage
C'est le glorieux, le glorieux, le glorieux
Il arrive en ville sans son cheval
Oui il arrive seul au final, au final
Peut-être bien qu'il s'rait tombé mal
Lui qu'on pensait en selle sans rival, sans rival
Le glorieux, la glorieux, le glorieux
Celui qui avec son épée
Faisait tomber les murailles
Et qu'était parti pour gagner la bataille
Celui qui avec son épée, sa force, sa taille
Devait ramener fiancée, fiançailles
Lui qu'on prenait pour un héros, un homme
Lui depuis toujours qu'on voyait comme, voyait comme
Le bon, le vaillant, le meilleur en somme
Le plus beau, le plus grand celui qu'on nomme, celui qu'on nomme
Le glorieux .
Celui qui avec son épée
Faisait tomber les murailles
Et qu'était parti pour gagner la bataille
Celui qui avec son épée, sa force, sa taille
Devait ramener fiancée, fiançailles
Mais il arrive qu'elles finissent mal
Les histoires sont cruelles, la morale, la morale
C'est que vouloir la plus belle fut fatal
Il l'a perdue en duel au final

The Glorious One

He arrives in town from his journey
He arrives alone without luggage, without luggage, without luggage
The whole crowd jostles to see him pass
The whole crowd remembers his face, his face
He's the glorious one, the glorious one, the glorious one
He arrives in town without his horse
Yes, he arrives alone in the end, in the end
Maybe he fell badly
He who was thought to be a rival in the saddle, without a rival
The glorious one, the glorious one, the glorious one
He who with his sword
Brought down walls
And who had set off to win the battle
He who with his sword, his strength, his size
Was to bring back a fiancée, an engagement
He who was taken for a hero, a man
He who had always been seen as, seen as
The good, the valiant, the best in short
The most handsome, the greatest, the one we call, the one we call
The glorious one.
He who with his sword
Brought down walls
And who had set off to win the battle
He who with his sword, his strength, his size
Was to bring back a fiancée, an engagement
But sometimes they end badly
The stories are cruel, the moral, the moral
Is that wanting the most beautiful was fatal
He lost her in a duel in the end