Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song A Chaque Enfant Qui Nait, artist - Gilbert Bécaud. Album song Les Plus Belles Chansons De Gilbert Bécaud, in the genre Поп
Date of issue: 22.02.1995
Record label: Parlophone France
Song language: French
A Chaque Enfant Qui Nait(original) |
A chaque enfant qui naicirct, le monde recommence |
Le monde recommence, recommence avec lui |
Et cet enfant qui vient do ventre de sa m’egravere |
Au ventre de la terre donnera bien do soleil |
Pousse ta charrette, va |
Courbe le dos, mais lève la t’ecircte |
Et plus la montagne est haute, plus c’est beau |
Et le voil agrave, parti sur ses petites jambes |
Sur des routes trop grandes, bien trop grandes pour lui |
Et le voil agrave grandi, il a les joues qui piquent |
Il fume de la musique et part pour New Delhi |
Il laisse les parents accumuler les traites |
Cotiser la retraite, survivre dignement |
Et lui se rend l’eacute ger comme un oiseau agrave voiles |
Qui monte jusqu’aux eacute toiles pour n’en plus retomber |
Et de mille m’eacutetiers en mille misegraveres |
Et d’herbes douces en arc-en-cielIl devient presque intemporel |
Pourtant il sait d’eacute j’agrave, que son voyage eacute clatera |
Entre une femme et un enfant il meurt content |
A chaque enfant qui naicirct le monde recommence |
Le monde recommence, recommence sans lui |
Mais son enfant vivra, il vivra comme lui |
Et la boucle est boucleacutee |
(translation) |
With every child born, the world begins again |
The world starts over, starts over with him |
And this child who comes from the womb of his body burns me |
In the belly of the earth will give much sun |
Push your cart, go |
Bend your back, but lift your head |
And the higher the mountain, the more beautiful it is |
And here he is, gone on his little legs |
On roads too big, way too big for him |
And he's grown, he's got itchy cheeks |
He smokes music and leaves for New Delhi |
He let the parents accumulate the bills |
Contribute to retirement, survive with dignity |
And he makes himself light like a bird with sails |
Which rises to the stars never to fall again |
And from a thousand metiers to a thousand misegravers |
And sweet grasses in rainbows It becomes almost timeless |
Yet he knows from oacute I agrave, that his trip oacute will burst |
Between a wife and a child he dies happy |
With every child born the world begins again |
The world starts over, starts over without him |
But his child will live, he will live like him |
And the loop is loopy |