Brigitte Fontaine translated lyrics

It’s raining 　 Il pleut

It’s raining / That’s all it can do
I move / That’s all I can do
Night falls / That’s all it can do
The wind blows / That’s all it can do
It’s snowing / That’s all it can do
I fear / That’s all I can do
Children are born / That’s all they can do
The Earth spins / That’s all it can do
It’s freezing / That’s all it can do
I’m crying / That’s all I can do
War breaks out / That’s all it can do
The bomb shreds / That’s all it can do
Thunder strikes / That’s all it can do
I scream / That’s all I can do
The dead are cold / That’s all they can do
It’s too bad / That’s all it can do

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Like Rimbaud 　 Comme Rimbaud

I am dirty like Rimbaud
A coward like Villon
Lewd like Hugo
Syphilitic like Baudelaire
But perhaps after all you don’t like poetry?

I’m a hypocrite like Racine
Exhibitionist like Rousseau
A slaver like Voltaire
I don’t exist like Shakespeare
But perhaps after all you don’t like literature?

I am dumb like Michelangelo
An alcoholic like Utrillo
A bootlicker like Vélasquez
Epileptic like Van Gogh
But perhaps after all you don’t like painting?

I am a whore like Lully
Deaf like Beethoven
A plagiarist like Bach
Greedy like Albioni
But perhaps after all you don’t like music?

I am a glutton like Colette
A slob like Marie Curie
A quisling like Anne de Bretagne
I am not a man like Joan of Arc
But perhaps after all you don’t like women?

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Like on the Radio 　 Comme à la radio

It will be exactly like on the radio
It will be nothing / Nothing but music
It will be nothing / Nothing but words
Words, like on the radio

It will not be a nuisance
It won’t prevent anyone from playing cards
It won’t prevent anyone from sleeping on the highway
It won’t prevent anyone from talking about money
It will be exactly / Like on the radio

It will be nothing
Just a little bit of noise

Silence is atrocious
Something is also atrocious
Between the two, it’s the radio

Barely a little noise / To fill the silence
Barely a little noise / And nothing more
Barely a little noise

Don’t be afraid
It will be exactly / Like on the radio

On this minute
Thousands of cats will be run over on the roads
On this minute
An alcoholic doctor will swear above the body of a young girl
He will say “Won’t let this bitch die under my hands”
On this minute
Five old crones in a park will begin discussing
Whether the time is twenty to or five to
On this minute
Thousands and thousands of people will think life is horrible
And they will cry
On this minute
Two policemen will get in an ambulance
And they will throw a young man wounded at the head
Into the river
On this minute
A dead-drunk old lady will whimper alone
On the last floor, under her bed
And will not move anymore
On this minute
A French man will be very happy to have found a job

It’s cold out there in the world
It’s cold
It’s cold
Word is getting out
Word is getting out
People are starting fires in some places
Because it’s too cold

Translator, translate this
But don’t be afraid
We know what the radio is

Nothing can happen there
Nothing can matter
It’s nothing
It was nothing
Just for a little noise
Just music
Just words, words, words, words, words
Barely a little noise
Barely a little noise
Like on the radio
Don’t leave
Don’t leave

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I’m 26 　 J’ai 26 ans

I’m twenty-six years old
But only four of those were any use
I don’t understand anything at all
I’m afraid of butterflies
My father died in the war
When I was little I had a pink angora cardigan
Too short to cover my floating ribs
Older men liked me very much
I don’t believe in experience
I am wary of enclosed spaces
I feel like laziness is like an illness
I like yellow rivers

I have to tell you
I have an extraordinarily soft spot
Of skin behind my ear
I like dairy and overripe bananas
I always wish for a hurricane to blow me away
That’s why I have tied myself to this chair with bicycle straps

I like stories that begin with “Once upon a time”
I hate café au lait
Before, boys used to pull my ears all the time
Once I saw armored tanks on the avenue d’Orléans
I like old love songs
And fries make me cry
On the water, boats always follow me
They scare me, they scare me

I have lived for a very long time here and there, at friends’ places
Once I broke a marble table
I like unshaven men
My teeth often hurt
I’m hungry when I shouldn’t be
There, you know everything

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For the Boss / Me Too 　 Pour le patron / Moi aussi

Me
I eat cow dung
There’s white bread though
But it’s for the boss
Me
I drink cow piss
There’s white wine though
But it’s for the boss
Me I —
Me I —

Me too, they’ve sold me for centuries, me too
Me too, I’ve been a machine in their factories, me too

They told me “Give me your watch, I’ll tell you the time when I feel like it”
They told me “Give me your body, I’ll give you a bone to gnaw”
They told me “Give me your blood, I’ll give you an aspirin tablet”

They’re sinking

They gouged my eyes out and told me about the film
Afterwards
They put me in a cage and told me “You fly low”
Afterwards
They crushed me and told me “You’re a filthy animal”
Afterwards

Me too, my love
It’s over, my love
Here we are, my love
Me too, me too, me too, it’s over


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First of July 　 Premier juillet

On this day, the first of July, the Earth has three billion inhabitants
Nobody has been able to write this simple telegram:
“I love you, can I come over? Signed: Gaston”

Today, women dreamt they made love with their fathers
Maids left their bourgeois families with insults in their mouths
Men’s testicles have retracted and they’ve attached them with twisted pieces of wool
Little stone age girls have sung in trains wild chants ignored by their mothers

The answer to all telegrams sent by people has been “Stay where you are”
As for me, I didn’t die in Sudan
Sometimes the telephone screams and must be given something to drink
The radio has started playing old songs
In Italy there are grey shirts
Here people have been talking about the clap among Algerians
It’s a sign something bad will happen but very far, here, in the street, next to this table, here

Riot squads are bunching up everywhere like blackberry shrubs
First of July, gasoline is in power
Things are going to blow up any second now
Taxi drivers everywhere say that fear does not prevent danger

Roses are at it again, hay is at it again, bees are at it again
Cats brush up against people and people point out again how selfish they are
Dogs, more slavish than ever, are cited everywhere as examples

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I’m 26, madam 　 J’ai 26 ans, madame

I’m 26
I like lawns and pillows
I live near a midwife
I walk like a river
I like drinking tea and strolling on the backs of birds
When evening comes, I like to hang around bars
In the countryside
Sometimes I fall asleep when I’m talking
But I can hear your answer
There, you know everything

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Fucking Stupid 　 Conne

I’m unhappy!
Because I’m fucking stupid
And everybody is fucking stupid
Because I have failed at life
I have failed to evolve spiritually
I have not belonged to any initiatic order
Stupid!
I have missed out on love
Love
When presented to me
In his candy-pink Mercedes
With his naked, golden chest
I left him on the side of the road
And got into a rotten 2CV with a stinking dog
Stupid!
I have not respected my father and mother
There’s no secret, no mystery to it
I have neglected my rights towards the universe
As for concrete things, I am a total klutz
I can’t even play electric guitar
Stupid!
I can’t even speak a foreign language
I have not worked on my body
And I am incapable of using a vacuum cleaner
Because I’m stupid
Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid

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