Текст и перевод песни Renaud - Le mauvais sujet repenti

Le mauvais sujet repenti

Elle avait la taill' faite au tour
Les hanches pleines
Et chassait l'm le aux alentours
De la Mad'leine
A sa fa on d'me dir' Mon rat
Est-c'que j'te tente?
Je vis que j'avais affaire
Un' d butante

L'avait l'don, c'est vrai, j'en conviens
L'avait l'g nie
Mais, sans technique, un don n'est rien
Qu'un' sal' manie
Certes on ne se fait pas putain
Comme on s'fait nonne
C'est du moins c'qu'on pr che, en latin
A la Sorbonne

Me sentant rempli de piti?
Pour la donzelle
J'lui enseignai, de son m? tier
Les p'tit's ficelles
J'lui enseignai l'moyen d'bient
Faire fortune
En bougeant l'endroit o le dos
R'ssemble la lune

Car, dans l'art de fair' le trottoir
Je le confesse
Le difficile est d'bien savoir
Jouer des fesses
On n'tortill' pas son popotin
D'la m me mani re
Pour un droguiste, un sacristain
Un fonctionnaire

Rapidement instruite par
Mes bons offices
Elle m'investit d'une part
D'ses b n fices
On s'aida mutuellement,
Comm' dit l'po te
Ell' tait l'corps, naturell'ment
Puis moi la t te

Un soir la suite de
Man uvres douteuses

Elle' tomba victim' d'une
Maladie honteuse
Lors, en tout bien, toute amiti
En fille probe
Elle me passa la moiti?
De ses microbes

Apr s des injections aigu
D'antiseptique
J'abandonnai l'm tier d'cocu
Syst matique
Elle eut beau pousser des sanglots
Braire tu'-t te
Comme je n' tais qu'un salaud
J'me fis honn te

Sit t priv e de ma tutelle
Ma pauvre amie
Courut essuyer du bordel
Les infamies
Para t qu'elle s'vend m me des flics
Quelle d cadence!
Y'a plus d'moralit publique
Dans notre France

The repentant bad subject

She had a waist made for the lathe
Hips full
And chased the men away
Of the Mad'leine
In her own way to tell me, "My rat
Are you tempted?"
I saw that I was dealing with
A beginner

She had the gift, that's true, I admit
She had the genius
But without technique, a gift is nothing
Just a dirty habit
Of course, you don't become a whore
Like you become a nun
That's what they preach, in Latin
At the Sorbonne

Feeling filled with pity
For the young lady
I taught her, her trade
The little tricks
I taught her how to do it best
Make a fortune
By moving the place where the back
Resembles the moon

Because, in the art of walking the pavement
I confess
The hard part is knowing how to do it right
Play the buttocks
You don't wiggle your butt
The same way
For a druggist, a sacristan
A civil servant

Quickly instructed by
My good offices
She invested me with a share
Of her benefits
We helped each other,
As the poet says
She was the body, naturally
And I the head

One evening the result of
Doubtful maneuvers

She' fell victim to a
Shameful disease
So, in all good faith, all friendship
As a good girl
She passed half of her
Germs to me

After sharp injections
Of antiseptic
I gave up the profession of cuckold
Systematic
In vain she sobbed
To bray your head off
As I was only a bastard
I became honest

As soon as I was deprived of my guardianship
My poor friend
Ran to wipe away the brothel
The infamies
They say she even sells herself to cops
What a disgrace!
There's no more public morality
In our France