Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Saturne , by - Georges Brassens. Song from the album Au Tnp 1966, in the genre ПопRelease date: 31.12.1995
Record label: Mercury
Song language: French
Saturne(original) |
| Il est morne, il est taciturne |
| Il préside aux choses du temps |
| Il porte un joli nom, Saturne |
| Mais c’est un Dieu fort inquiétant |
| Il porte un joli nom, Saturne |
| Mais c’est un Dieu fort inquiétant |
| En allant son chemin, morose |
| Pour se désennuyer un peu |
| Il joue à bousculer les roses |
| Le temps tue le temps comme il peut |
| Il joue à bousculer les roses |
| Le temps tue le temps comme il peut |
| Cette saison, c’est toi, ma belle |
| Qui a fait les frais de son jeu |
| Toi qui a payé la gabelle |
| Un grain de sel dans tes cheveux |
| Toi qui a payé la gabelle |
| Un grain de sel dans tes cheveux |
| C’est pas vilain, les fleurs d’automne |
| Et tous les poètes l’ont dit |
| Je te regarde et je te donne |
| Mon billet qu’ils n’ont pas menti |
| Je te regarde et je te donne |
| Mon billet qu’ils n’ont pas menti |
| Viens encore, viens ma favorite |
| Descendons ensemble au jardin |
| Viens effeuiller la marguerite |
| De l'été de la Saint-Martin |
| Viens effeuiller la marguerite |
| De l'été de la Saint-Martin |
| Je sais par cœur toutes tes grâces |
| Et pour me les faire oublier |
| Il faudra que Saturne en fasse |
| Des tours d’horloge, de sablier |
| Et la petite pisseuse d’en face |
| Peut bien aller se rhabiller… |
| (translation) |
| He's dull, he's taciturn |
| He presides over the things of time |
| He has a nice name, Saturn |
| But he's a very disturbing God |
| He has a nice name, Saturn |
| But he's a very disturbing God |
| Going his way, morose |
| To relieve a little boredom |
| He's playing at hustling the roses |
| Time kills time as it can |
| He's playing at hustling the roses |
| Time kills time as it can |
| This season, it's you, girl |
| Who paid the price for his game |
| You who paid the tax |
| A grain of salt in your hair |
| You who paid the tax |
| A grain of salt in your hair |
| It's not ugly, the autumn flowers |
| And all the poets have said so |
| I look at you and give you |
| My ticket that they didn't lie |
| I look at you and give you |
| My ticket that they didn't lie |
| Come again, come my favorite |
| Let's go down to the garden together |
| Come pluck the daisy |
| From the summer of St. Martin |
| Come pluck the daisy |
| From the summer of St. Martin |
| I know by heart all your graces |
| And to make me forget them |
| Saturn will have to do it |
| Clock towers, hourglass |
| And the little piss girl opposite |
| Might go get dressed... |