| Come on ahead, you short-nosed gentlemen roasted,
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| I can't stand you anymore
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| I will stick the pen well into your pride because with this sword you will
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| I kill when I want
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| Come along, ramshackle poets, useless singers of unfortunate days,
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| fools who live without strength, you will have money and glory,
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| but you have no zest; |
| enjoy the success, enjoy while it lasts, that the audience
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| he is trained and does not frighten you. |
| And go who knows where to avoid paying taxes,
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| with the grin and ignorance of the top class
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| I'm just a poor cadet from Gascony, but I can't stand people who
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| does not dream
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| The trappings? |
| Arrivism? |
| I don't take the bait and at the end of my leave I don't
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| I forgive and touch, I don't forgive, I don't forgive and touch!
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| Let's get it over with, all come forward new protagonists, rampant politicians,
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| come bag carriers, ruffians and half socks, ferocious broadcasters
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| false that you have often made an art of indifference, courage liberalists,
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| throw down the cards so there will always be those who will pay the costs in this
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| blessed, absurd beautiful country
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| I don't give a damn if I'm wrong too, sorry is my pleasure,
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| I love to be hated; |
| I've always toyed with the smart and arrogant and in the end
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| of the license I do not forgive and touch, I do not forgive, I do not forgive and touch!
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| But when I'm alone with this nose on my toe that has always been at least half an hour
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| precedes me my anger is extinguished and I remember with pain that it is almost to me
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| the dream of a love is forbidden; |
| I don't know how many I have loved, I don't know how many I have
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| had, by fault or by fate, I have lost women and when I feel the weight of
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| always be alone
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| I close myself at home and write and by writing I console myself, but inside I feel that the
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| great love exists, I love without sin, I love, but I am sad because Rossana is
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| beautiful, we are so different, I can't talk to her: I'll talk to her with her verses,
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| I'll talk to her with verses ...
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| Come empty people, let's get it over with, you priests who sell everyone else
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| life;
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| If there is, as you say, a God in infinity, look into your heart,
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| you have already betrayed him
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| And you materialists, with your obsession, that God is dead and man is alone
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| in this abyss, the truths you seek on the ground, by pigs, keep your acorns,
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| leave me the wings;
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| Go home dwarves, stand up front, for my enormous anger I need them
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| giants
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| I do not always take the dogmas and prejudices and at the end of my leave I do not
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| I forgive and touch, I don't forgive, I don't forgive and touch!
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| I touch my enemies with my nose and sword, but in this life today not
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| I find the way more
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| I don't want to resign myself to being bad, you alone can save me,
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| you alone and I write it to you:
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| There must be, I feel, on earth or in heaven a place where we will not suffer and everything
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| it will be right
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| Please don't laugh at these words of mine, I'm just a shadow and you, Rossana,
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| the sun, but you, I know, do not laugh, sweet lady and I do not hide
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| under your dwelling because now I feel it, I have not suffered in vain,
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| if you love me as I am, forever yours, forever yours, forever yours ... Cyrano |