Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Fatigue, artist - Renaud. Album song Paris Provinces Aller/retour, in the genre Поп
Date of issue: 28.11.1996
Record label: Parlophone (France)
Song language: French
Fatigue(original) |
Jamais une statue ne sera assez grande |
pour dpasser la cime du moindre peuplier |
et les arbres ont le coeur infiniment plus tendre |
que celui des hommes qui les ont plants |
Pour toucher la sagesse qui ne viendra jamais |
j’changerais la sve du premier olivier |
contre mon sang impur d’tre civilis |
responsable anonyme de tout le sang vers |
Fatigu, fatigu |
fatigu du mensonge et de la vrit |
que je croyais si belle, que je voulais aimer |
et qui est si cruelle que je m’y suis brl |
Fatigu, fatigu |
Fatigu d’habiter sur la plante terre |
sur ce grain de poussire, sur ce caillou minable |
sur cette fausse toile perdue dans l’univers |
berceau de la btise et royaume du mal |
o la plus volue parmi les cratures |
a invent la haine, le racisme et la guerre |
et le pouvoir maudit qui corrompt les plus purs |
et amne le sage cracher sur son frre |
Fatigu, fatigu |
fatigu de parler, fatigu de me taire |
quand on blesse un enfant, quand on viole sa mre |
quand la moiti du monde en assassine un tiers |
Fatigu, fatigu |
Fatigu de ces hommes qui ont tu les indiens, |
massacr les baleines et billonn la vie, |
extermin les loups, mis des colliers aux chiens |
qui ont mme russi pourrir la pluie |
La liste est bien trop longue de tout ce qui m’coeure |
depuis l’horreur banale du moindre fait divers |
il n’y a plus assez de place dans mon coeur |
pour loger la rvolte, le dgot, la colre |
Fatigu, fatigu |
fatigu d’esprer et fatigu de croire |
ces ides brandies comme des tendards |
et pour lesquelles tant d’hommes ont connu l’abattoir |
Fatigu, fatigu |
Je voudrais tre un arbre, boire l’eau des orages |
me nourrir de la terre, tre ami des oiseaux, |
et puis avoir la tte si haut dans les nuages |
qu’aucun homme ne puisse y planter un drapeau |
Je voudrais tre un arbre et plonger mes racines |
au coeur de cette terre que j’aime tellement |
et que ce putain d’homme chaque jour assassine |
je voudrais le silence enfin, et puis le vent… |
Fatigu, fatigu |
Fatigu de har et fatigu d’aimer |
surtout ne plus rien dire, ne plus jamais crier |
fatigu des discours, des paroles sacres |
Fatigu, fatigu |
Fatigu, fatigu fatigu de sourire, fatigu de pleurer |
fatigu de chercher quelques traces d’amour |
dans l’ocan de boue o sombre la pense |
Fatigu, fatigu |
(translation) |
A statue will never be big enough |
to rise above the top of the smallest poplar |
and the trees are infinitely tender-hearted |
than that of the men who planted them |
To touch the wisdom that will never come |
I would change the sap of the first olive tree |
against my impure blood to be civilized |
anonymous responsible for all blood to |
Tired, tired |
tired of lies and truth |
that I thought was so beautiful, that I wanted to love |
and which is so cruel that I burned myself in it |
Tired, tired |
Tired of dwelling on the plant earth |
on this speck of dust, on this shabby pebble |
on this fake canvas lost in the universe |
cradle of stupidity and kingdom of evil |
o most evolved among creatures |
invented hatred, racism and war |
and the cursed power that corrupts the purest |
and bring the wise man to spit on his brother |
Tired, tired |
tired of speaking, tired of being silent |
when you hurt a child, when you rape his mother |
when half the world murders a third |
Tired, tired |
Tired of these men who killed the Indians, |
slaughtered whales and blotted life, |
exterminate the wolves, put collars on the dogs |
who even managed to rot in the rain |
The list is far too long of everything that interests me |
from the banal horror of the smallest news item |
there's not enough room in my heart |
to house revolt, disgust, anger |
Tired, tired |
tired of hoping and tired of believing |
these ideas held up like banners |
and for which so many men have known the slaughterhouse |
Tired, tired |
I would like to be a tree, drink storm water |
feed me from the earth, be a friend of the birds, |
and then have your head so high in the clouds |
that no man can plant a flag there |
I would like to be a tree and sink my roots |
in the heart of this land that I love so much |
and that this fucking man murders every day |
I would like silence at last, and then the wind... |
Tired, tired |
Tired of har and tired of loving |
above all don't say anything anymore, never shout again |
tired of speeches, sacred words |
Tired, tired |
Tired, tired, tired of smiling, tired of crying |
tired of looking for some traces of love |
in the ocean of mud where thought darkens |
Tired, tired |