Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song En veston jaune, artist - Patrice. Album song Des succès en duo, in the genre Поп
Date of issue: 16.04.2019
Record label: Nerpa Musique
Song language: French
En veston jaune(original) |
Quand la neige de décembre voltigeait sur les chaumières |
Que de contes, que de fables nous racontait mon grand-père. |
Il savait les mille histoires qui cheminent sur la Terre. |
La plus belle était l’image qui chantait un grand amour. |
C’est du cœur d’un doux poète qu’un matin, elle naquit |
La voici, naïve et tendre, aussi fraîche que jadis. |
En veston jaune et pantalon bleu pervenche |
Dans sa calèche, il venait le dimanche. |
Dans la grand-rue, l’attendait, rose et blanche |
Mademoiselle Isabelle, son amour. |
Trottinant sans trop de zèle, la jument faisait leur bonheur |
A l’abri sous une ombrelle |
En cadence battaient leurs cœurs. |
A vingt ans, comme tant d’autres, il dut quitter son Isabelle |
En jurant à son amour de lui rester toujours fidèle. |
Tous les jours, il lui cueillait les fleurs nouvelles les plus belles |
Qu’il jetait dans la rivière qui passait au cher pays. |
Et les fleurs de ce poète, naviguant au fil de l’eau |
Apportaient à Isabelle le message le plus beau. |
En veston jaune et pantalon bleu pervenche |
Dans sa calèche, il viendra le dimanche. |
Dans la grand-rue, l’attendra, rose et blanche |
Mademoiselle Isabelle, son amour. |
Trottinant sans trop de zèle, la jument fera leur bonheur |
A l’abri sous une ombrelle |
En cadence battront leurs cœurs. |
Et, plus tard, à la chapelle |
Un curé bénit leur amour. |
Cette histoire est éternelle |
Chantez-la à votre tour. |
(translation) |
When the December snow fluttered over the cottages |
What tales, what fables my grandfather told us. |
He knew the thousand stories that walk the Earth. |
Most beautiful was the image that sang of great love. |
It was from the heart of a sweet poet that one morning she was born |
Here she is, naive and tender, as fresh as ever. |
In yellow jacket and periwinkle blue pants |
In his carriage he came on Sundays. |
In the high street, waiting for her, pink and white |
Mademoiselle Isabelle, her love. |
Trotting without too much zeal, the mare made them happy |
Sheltered under a parasol |
Their hearts beat rhythmically. |
At twenty, like so many others, he had to leave his Isabelle |
By swearing to his love to always remain faithful to him. |
Every day he picked her the most beautiful new flowers |
Which he threw into the river that passed through the dear country. |
And this poet's flowers, sailing on the water |
Brought Isabelle the most beautiful message. |
In yellow jacket and periwinkle blue pants |
In his carriage he will come on Sundays. |
In the main street, will wait for her, pink and white |
Mademoiselle Isabelle, her love. |
Trotting without too much zeal, the mare will make them happy |
Sheltered under a parasol |
In rhythm their hearts will beat. |
And later in the chapel |
A priest blesses their love. |
This story is eternal |
Sing it yourself. |