Lyrics of Petit homme mort au combat - Daniel Balavoine

Petit homme mort au combat (original)

Petit homme Mort Au combat
(D. Balavoine)
Etendu, noy de poussire,
Un enfant fixe le nant,
Le front humide entour d’un turban,
Il dit que Dieu est grand -and
Dans son dos, mouill de sueur,
On peut voir qu’il n’a pas eu le temps
De comprendre d’o venait la douleur
Qui brise ses tympans
Petit homme mort au combat,
Qui a pu guider ses pas?
Ivre de prires
Rythmes par le glas
Petit homme mort au combat,
Quel Dieu a pu vouloir ca?
Qui peut etre fier
De tant de dgts
Et en moi, l’tau se ressre,
Quand je vois dfiler ces enfants
Aveugls par des hommes aux voeux pervers,
Aux hymnes d-lirants
Au del de toute frontire,
Il faut dire tout esprit naissant
Qu’aucune cause ne vaudra jamais
La mort d’un innocent -ent
Petit homme mort au combat,
Quel Dieu a pu vouloir ca?
Qui peut etre fier
De tant de dgts
Devant ces feux -eux
De Haine,
De Terre,
De Sang -ang -ang,
J’espre un peu
Quand meme,
Oh!
Que l’Homme comprenne
Que l’enfant ne sait pas quoi il consent!
Petit homme mort au combat,
Qui a pu guider tes pas?
Ivre de prires
Rythmes par le glas
Oh,
Petit homme mort au combat,
Quel Dieu a pu vouloir ca?
Qui peut etre fier
De tant de dgts!

(translation)

Little Dead In Action Man
(D. Balavoine)
Lying, drowned in dust,
A child stares at the nant,
The wet forehead wrapped in a turban,
He says God is great -and
Behind his back, wet with sweat,
You can see he didn't have time
To understand where the pain was coming from
Who breaks his eardrums
Little man who died in battle,
Who could guide his steps?
Drunk on prayers
Rhythms through the death knell
Little man who died in battle,
What god could have wanted that?
who can be proud
So much damage
And in me the noose tightens,
When I see these kids go by
Blinded by men of perverse vows,
To de-lirious hymns
Beyond any border,
It must be said any nascent spirit
That no cause will ever be worth
Death of an Innocent -ent
Little man who died in battle,
What god could have wanted that?
who can be proud
So much damage
In front of these fires
Of Hatred,
Earthen,
From Blood -ang -ang,
I hope a little
All the same,
Oh!
Let the man understand
That the child does not know what he consents to!
Little man who died in battle,
Who could guide your steps?
Drunk on prayers
Rhythms through the death knell
Oh,
Little man who died in battle,
What god could have wanted that?
who can be proud
So much damage!