Текст и перевод песни Yves Montand - Battling Joe

Battling Joe

Dans un village noir de charbon
Dans les ch'minées et les corons
Tout p'tit il battait ses copains
Il était fier de ses deux poings
Presqu'autant qu'son père le mineur
Qui disait ça f'ra un boxeur
Le jour de son premier combat
Fallait un nom l'en avait pas
Comme la mode était à l'anglais
Il s'appela Battling Joe

Battling Joe
C'était un peu démesuré
Pour un gosse aux épaules étroites
Mais qui avait une méchante droite
Battling Joe
Il gagna son premier combat
Et le soir même avec papa
Il prenait le train pour Paris
Où un boxeur ça vaut son prix
Battling Joe

Il croyait bien en f'sant c'truc-là
Être plus libre mais voilà
Qui dit boxeur dit manager
Le sien avait une poigne de fer
C'était un gars très régulier
Qui pour justifier la moitié
Des bourses de tous ses combats
Lui fit mener une vie d'forçat
On n'est pas là pour rigoler
Qu'il disait à Battling Joe

Battling Joe
Devint un boxeur redouté
Battling faisait de grosses recettes
Battling devint une grosse vedette
Battling Joe
Les dames disaient tout près du ring
Il est délicieux ce Battling
Et elles admiraient son moral
Sans penser qu'les coups ça fait mal
Battling Joe

Battling devint un grand champion
Jusqu'au triste soir où un gnon
Lui embrouilla soudain les yeux
L' manager dit c'est pas sérieux
Tu d'viens feignant fait ton métier
Boxe ça rime pas avec pitié
La foule eut p't-être tort ce soir-là
De siffler la fin du combat
Malgré les lampes et leurs éclairs
Battling Joe hey Joe n'voyait plus clair

Battling Joe
C'est un nom maint'nant oublié
Une triste silhouette qui penche
Appuyée sur une canne blanche
Battling Joe
A tout perdu en un seul soir
Ses yeux son titre et son espoir
Mais il sait comme consolation
Qu'son manager a d'autres champions
Battling Joe

Battling Joe

In a coal-black village
In the chimneys and the pit villages
He was beating his buddies when he was little
He was proud of his two fists
Almost as much as his miner father
Who said that'll make a boxer
On the day of his first fight
He needed a name and didn't have one
Since the fashion was English
He called himself Battling Joe

Battling Joe
It was a bit over the top
For a kid with narrow shoulders
But who had a wicked right
Battling Joe
He won his first fight
And that same evening with dad
He was taking the train to Paris
Where a boxer is worth his price
Battling Joe

He really believed by doing that
To be freer but here you go
Who says boxer says manager
His had an iron fist
He was a very regular guy
Who to justify half
Of the money from all his fights
Made him lead a galley slave's life
We're not here to have fun
He said to Battling Joe

Battling Joe
Became a feared boxer
Battling made big money
Battling became a big star
Battling Joe
The ladies would say close to the ring
He is so sweet, this Battling
And they admired his morale
Not thinking that blows hurt
Battling Joe

Battling became a great champion
Until the sad evening when a blow
Suddenly clouded his eyes
The manager said it's not serious
You're becoming lazy, do your job
Boxing doesn't rhyme with pity
The crowd was perhaps wrong that night
To whistle the end of the match
Despite the lights and their flashes
Battling Joe hey Joe could no longer see clearly

Battling Joe
It's a name now forgotten
A sad silhouette that leans
Leaning on a white cane
Battling Joe
He lost everything in one night
His eyes his title and his hope
But he knows as a consolation
That his manager has other champions
Battling Joe