Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Le ros lulu, artist - Juliette Gréco.
Date of issue: 25.05.2014
Song language: French
Le ros lulu(original) |
Dans Paris tout bleu, sous la lune, un soir de juin |
Elle marchait en somnambule, les yeux lointains |
Mais ni Paris bleu ni la lune n’existaient pour elle, ce soir-là |
Chagrin d’amour ou peur de vivre? |
Elle avait seize ans |
Lui, il flânait en solitaire, le gros Lulu |
Un peu rond et la cinquantaine peut-être plus |
Il serait passé sans rien dire mais quelque chose l’arrêta |
Ce désespoir à la dérive, il l’aborda |
Devant son air triste, il parla, des mots gentils |
Elle ne l'écouta même pas mais le suivit |
Elle aurait bien suivi le diable, alors pourquoi pas celui-là |
Elle lui trouva l’air d’un bon diable, il l’amena |
L’avait une maison de riche, le gros Lulu |
Il y amena cette biche aux yeux perdus |
Elle ne raconta pas sa vie, il ne la lui demanda pas |
Mais comme on fait pour une reine, il l’installa |
Pour la guérir, il l’entoura de mille soins |
Il cueillit les plus belles roses de son jardin |
Pour lui redonner des sourires, il devint poète et ami |
Il inventa des tours de pitre, elle sourit |
Mais les bourgeois et les duchesses, les relations |
À leur façon chuchotèrent dans les salons |
Elles avaient beau dire et médire, le gros Lulu, il savait bien |
Que même en rêve il ne posa jamais la main |
Jamais la main sur sa princesse qu’avait seize ans |
Et ceux qui étaient un peu plus sages ou moins méchants |
Se demandaient «Qu'est-ce qui brille chez le gros Lulu transformé |
Et qu’est-ce qui lie donc cette biche à ce sanglier ?» |
À seize ans, les désespoirs passent et simplement |
Elle le quitta sans un mot de remerciement |
Lui, il ne la crut pas ingrate, les mots ça sert peu, voyez-vous |
Dans un sourire ils se quittèrent et voilà tout |
Il y perdait comme sa vie, le gros Lulu |
Mais c’est après son départ qu’il s’en aperçut |
Elle, elle y gagna une chose comme un talisman et bien plus |
Pouvoir penser, quand tout est moche, au gros Lulu |
(translation) |
In Paris all blue, under the moon, one evening in June |
She was sleepwalking, eyes far away |
But neither blue Paris nor the moon existed for her that night |
Heartache or scared to live? |
She was sixteen |
Him, he strolled alone, the fat Lulu |
A little plump and 50s maybe older |
He would have passed without saying anything but something stopped him |
This drifting despair he approached |
At her sad look, he spoke, kind words |
She didn't even listen to him but followed him |
She would have followed the devil, so why not this one |
She thought he looked like a good devil, he brought her |
Had him a rich house, fat Lulu |
He brought that doe with lost eyes |
She didn't tell her life story, he didn't ask her |
But like a queen, he installed her |
To heal her, he surrounded her with a thousand cares |
He picked the most beautiful roses from his garden |
To give her smiles, he became a poet and a friend |
He invented clown tricks, she smiled |
But the bourgeois and the duchesses, the relations |
In their own way whispered in the salons |
No matter how much they said and slandered, fat Lulu, he knew well |
That even in dreams he never put his hand down |
Never laying hands on his sixteen-year-old princess |
And those who were a little wiser or less wicked |
Were wondering "What's shining about fat Lulu transformed |
And what binds this doe to this boar?" |
At sixteen, the despair passes and just |
She left him without a word of thanks |
He didn't think she was ungrateful, words are of little use, you see |
With a smile they parted and that was it |
He was losing his life, big Lulu |
But it was after his departure that he noticed it |
She, she won such a thing as a talisman and more |
To be able to think, when everything is ugly, of fat Lulu |