Текст и перевод песни Edith Piaf - Monsieur Saint-Pierre (Live)

Monsieur Saint-Pierre (Live)

Y a pas? dire, j'aime bien la vie
Et un peu trop les beaux gar? ons.
Moi, j'ai un c? ur qui s'multiplie
Et? a m'fait de dr? l's d'additions
Et j'arrive pas? avoir honte.
J'suis tranquill'ment un fill' de rien,
Mais quand faudra rendre des comptes,
Je m'demand' si tout s'pass'ra bien
Et? a m'fait peur, car on m'a dit
Qu'on m'prendrait pas au paradis.? mon bon monsieur Saint-Pierre,
Moi, j'vous cause? ma mani? re.
Vous pouvez m'passer un savon
Et me traiter de tous les noms,
Vous pouvez m'fair' perdre mon sac,
Celui qu'j'ai vol? rue du Bac,
Mais retenez ma place au paradis.
On m'a tell'ment dit que c'? tait joli.
Regardez-moi bien.
Je suis si pauvre.
Regardez mes mains,
Des mains de pauvre
Et regardez tous mes p? ch? s
Et mon vieux c? ur las de tricher.
Y a des tas d'noms? crits dessus.
C'est pas d'ma faute, ils m'ont tous plu.? mon bon monsieur Saint-Pierre,
Je n'sais pas fair' de pri? re
Mais on dit qu'vous? tes si gentil.
Ret'nez ma place au paradis.
Y a pas? dir', j'aimais la vie,
Mais maint'nant? a m'avance? quoi.
Me v'l? tout' froide et tout' raidie
Entre quatre planches de bois.
Vraiment, mon? me n'est pas fi? re
Devant la porte de cristal
O? j'entrevois derri? r' Saint-Pierre
Une? ternit? d'id? al.
Je n'suis qu'une? m' de rien du tout,
Je n'sais m? m' pas me mettre? g'noux.? mon bon monsieur Saint-Pierre,
Moi j'vous cause? ma mani? re.
Vous pouvez m'enl'ver mes d? sirs,
Me priver de tous mes souv'nirs
Et m? m' me confisquer mon clip,
Celui qu'm'a pay? l'beau Philippe,
Mais donnez-moi ma place au paradis.
On m'a tell'ment dit que c'? tait joli.
Regardez-moi bien.
Je suis si pauvre.
Regardez mes mains,
Des mains de pauvre
Et regardez tous mes p? ch? s
Et mon vieux c? ur las de tricher.
De tous les noms? crits dessus,
Y'en a plus qu'un, celui d'J? sus.? mon bon monsieur Saint-Pierre,
Je n'sais pas fair' de pri? re,
Alors mettons que j'n'ai rien dit
Mais gardez-moi au paradis

Monsieur Saint-Pierre (Live)

I don't have to say it, I love life
And a little too much handsome boys.
I have a heart that multiplies itself
And it makes me do silly additions
And I can't be ashamed of it.
I'm quietly a nobody's daughter,
But when the time comes to give an account of myself,
I wonder if everything will go well
And it scares me, because I was told
That I would not be welcomed in heaven.? my good mister Saint-Pierre,
I'm talking to you in my own way.
You can give me a scolding
And call me all sorts of names,
You can make me lose my bag,
The one I stole from Rue du Bac,
But keep my place in heaven.
I was told so much that it was beautiful.
Look at me carefully.
I'm so poor.
Look at my hands,
The hands of a poor girl
And look at all my sins
And my old heart tired of cheating.
There are so many names written on them.
It's not my fault, I liked them all.? my good mister Saint-Pierre,
I don't know how to pray
But they say you are so kind.
Keep my place in heaven.
I don't have to say it, I loved life,
But now what good does it do me.
Here I am, all cold and stiff
Between four wooden planks.
Really, my heart is not proud
In front of the crystal door
Where I can glimpse behind Saint-Pierre
An eternity of ideals.
I'm just a nobody's daughter,
I don't even know how to kneel.? my good mister Saint-Pierre,
I'm talking to you in my own way.
You can take away my desires,
Deprive me of all my memories
And even confiscate my clip,
The one that was bought for me by the handsome Philippe,
But give me my place in heaven.
I was told so much that it was beautiful.
Look at me carefully.
I'm so poor.
Look at my hands,
The hands of a poor girl
And look at all my sins
And my old heart tired of cheating.
Of all the names written on it,
There is only one left, that of Jesus.? my good mister Saint-Pierre,
I don't know how to pray,
So let's say that I said nothing
But keep me in heaven