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I'm French...Today at least.

Les Feuilles Mortes

Jacques Prévert

Oh! je voudrais tant que tu te souviennes

Des jours heureux où nous étions amis

En ce temps-là la vie était plus belle,

Et le soleil plus brûlant qu’aujourd’hui

Les feuilles mortes se ramassent à la pelle

Tu vois, je n’ai pas oublié...

Les feuilles mortes se ramassent à la pelle,

Les souvenirs et les regrets aussi

Et le vent du nord les emporte

Dans la nuit froide de l’oubli.

Tu vois, je n’ai pas oublié

La chanson que tu me chantais.

C’est une chanson qui nous ressemble

Toi, tu m’aimais et je t’aimais

Et nous vivions tous deux ensemble

Toi qui m’aimais, moi qui t’aimais

Mais la vie sépare ceux qui s’aiment

Tout doucement, sans faire de bruit

Et la mer efface sur le sable

Les pas des amants désunis.

Les feuilles mortes se ramassent à la pelle,

Les souvenirs et les regrets aussi

Mais mon amour silencieux et fidèle

Sourit toujours et remercie la vie

Je t’aimais tant, tu étais si jolie,

Comment veux-tu que je t’oublie?

En ce temps-là, la vie était plus belle

Et le soleil plus brûlant qu’aujourd’hui

Tu étais ma plus douce amie

Mais je n’ai que faire des regrets

Et la chanson que tu chantais

Toujours, toujours je l’entendrai!

Dead Leaves

Oh, I would like you so much to remember

Those happy days when we were friends, and how

Life in those times was more lovely and tender,

Even the sun shone more brightly than now.

Dead leaves are gathering as in December

You see how one never forgets...

Dead leaves are gathering as in December,

Just like the memories and the regrets.

And then the north wind comes and sweeps them

Into oblivion’s icy night.

You see how I never forgot

That old song that you sang for me.

A song like us, birds of a feather,

You loving me, me loving you,

And we lived happily together,

You loving me, me loving you.

But life tears apart gentle lovers

Who quietly obey their heart,

And the sea invades the sand and covers

The footsteps of those torn apart.

Dead leaves are gathering, dead leaves are piling

Up just like memories and like regrets.

But still my love goes on quietly smiling

Thankful for life and for all that it gets.

I loved you so, you were ever so lovely,

How can I forget? Tell me how!

Life in those times was more sweet and beguiling,

Even the sun shone more brightly than now.

You were my most sweet friend and lover

,But regret is all that I can do,

And I’ll keep on hearing the song

That I used to hear sung by you.

In my french class we had this section in the middle of the chapter, a section ment to unfold the French culture before our very eyes-naturally we all hated this part because it ment one thing. Reading aloud in a French accent trying desperatley to sound like a native but sounding hoplessly and tragically American. My french teacher Mrs.Bonneville spoke french perfectly so it was pretty imtimidaing when she would turn to me and say in that lovely french accent "Melissa Faire vous a lu pour nous. " Anyway this poem was one of the many many things I had to read and I was surprised that I understood exactly what I was reading as if I knew the words for my heart. The poem was a song and was performed by slew of frenchies and non-frenchies a like , such as Yves Montand and Andrea Bocelli. To me this poem speaks volumes of Love and how things don't really turn out the way you would like them to, and no matterhow hard you try nothing can erase the love that was felt so long. Personally, I think it is very tragic to not be able to forget the pain of living without someone, but then again the memories can be of some confort-I suppose. Everytime I read this poem I think of what is was like to discover my love of the french language - and that after much practice I now sound less like an American visiting and more like an American that has been living in France for year or so.


Avoir un Mercredi merveilleux!!!


Je suis heureux vous ai eu la traduction en anglais pour nous l'ignorante.

Time waits for no one... so carpe diem!

January 28, 2009 at 2:09 PM  

Soo true..each minute that passes is a minute wasted

January 28, 2009 at 3:07 PM  

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