Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Elle Fréquentait La Rue Pigalle — 1939, artist - Édith Piaf.
Date of issue: 11.04.2011
Song language: French
Elle Fréquentait La Rue Pigalle — 1939(original) |
Ell' fréquentait la rue Pigalle. |
Ell' sentait l’vice à bon marché. |
Elle était tout' noire de péchés |
Avec un pauvr' visage tout pâle. |
Pourtant, y avait dans l’fond d’ses yeux |
Comm' quequ' chos' de miraculeux |
Qui semblait mettre un peu d’ciel bleu |
Dans celui tout sale de Pigalle. |
Il lui avait dit: «Vous êt's belle.» |
Et d’habitud', dans c’quartier-là, |
On dit jamais les chos’s comm' ça |
Aux fill’s qui font l’mêm' métier qu’elle |
Et comme ell' voulait s’confesser, |
Il la couvrait tout' de baisers, |
En lui disant: «Laiss' ton passé, |
Moi, j’vois qu’un' chos', c’est qu' tu es belle.» |
Y a des imag’s qui vous tracassent |
Et, quand ell' sortait avec lui, |
Depuis Barbès jusqu'à Clichy |
Son passé lui f’sait la grimace |
Et sur les trottoirs plein d’souv’nirs, |
Ell' voyait son amour s’flétrir, |
Alors, ell' lui d’manda d’partir, |
Et il l’emm’na vers Montparnasse. |
Ell' croyait r’commencer sa vie, |
Mais c’est lui qui s’mit à changer. |
Il la r’gardait tout étonné, |
Disant: «J'te croyais plus jolie, |
Ici, le jour t'éclair' de trop, |
On voit tes vic’s à fleur de peau. |
Vaudrait p’t'êtr' mieux qu' tu r’tourn’s là-haut |
Et qu’on reprenn' chacun sa vie.» |
Elle est r’tourné' dans son Pigalle. |
Y a plus personn' pour la r’pêcher. |
Elle a r’trouvée tous ses péchés, |
Ses coins d’ombre et ses trottoirs sales |
Mais quand ell' voit des amoureux |
Qui r’mont’nt la rue d’un air joyeux, |
Y a des larm’s dans ses grands yeux bleus |
Qui coul’nt le long d’ses jou’s tout’s pâles. |
(translation) |
She frequented Rue Pigalle. |
She smelt cheap vice. |
She was all black with sins |
With a poor, pale face. |
However, there was in the back of his eyes |
Like something miraculous |
Which seemed to put a little blue sky |
In the dirty one of Pigalle. |
He said to her, "You're beautiful." |
And usually, in that neighborhood, |
We never say things like that |
To the girls who do the same job as her |
And as she wanted to confess, |
He covered her all with kisses, |
Saying to him: "Leave your past, |
Me, I see that one thing is that you are beautiful." |
There are images that bother you |
And, when she went out with him, |
From Barbès to Clichy |
His past makes him grimace |
And on the sidewalks full of memories, |
She saw her love wither |
So she asked him to leave |
And he took her to Montparnasse. |
She thought she was starting her life over again, |
But it was he who began to change. |
He looked at her in astonishment, |
Saying: "I thought you were prettier, |
Here, the day shines on you too much, |
We see your vic's on edge. |
It might be better for you to go back up there |
And let's each take back our lives." |
She returned to her Pigalle. |
There's no one left to fish her out. |
She found all her sins, |
Its dark corners and dirty sidewalks |
But when she sees lovers |
Who go up the street with a joyful air, |
There are tears in her big blue eyes |
Running down her pale cheeks. |