Translation of ''Deutsche Grammophon'' by Vincent Delerm

Song: Deutsche Grammophon***

Artist: Vincent Delerm 

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♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪ 

For a party at five

She puts on Francis Poulenc 

Some Henri Dutilleux 

When she rereads Bourdieu 

The night of the “Chandeleur”*

It's some Gustav Mahler 

Allessandro Scarlatti 

For correcting papers 

She's a Deutsche Grammophon girl 

At first it shocked us 

She masters Telemann 

More than François Feldman

A Harmonia Mundi** girl 

At first it surprised us 

She goes to the pool less 

Than the Aubazine Abbey 

We kissed 

During an etude in D 

Found some common points 

During a harpsichord piece 

The moving memory

Of this first movement 

Has suffered as time has passed 

Because of some unfortunate variations 

She's a Deutsche Grammophon girl 

At first it shocked us 

She masters Furtwrangler 

More than Jean Pierre Mader

A Harmonia Mundi girl 

At first it surprised us 

She goes to Disneyland less 

Than the cloisters of Marmande 

One relives some loves 

While listening to the Cure 

Some vacations in the Catalanes 

Thanks to Duran Duran 

Some pale Englishwomen 

With Joy Division

But I only think again about her 

During Haendel's Messie 

For a party at five

She puts on Francis Poulenc 

Some Henri Dutilleux 

When she rereads Bourdieu 

*Le Chandeleur (Candlemas) is a holiday that occurs on February second, and is similar to the U.S.'s groundhog day. It represents the passing winter and has a great amount of spirituality and superstition associated with it. 

** Harmonia Mundi was one of the earliest producers of gramophones.
***"Deutsche Grammophon" is a brand and should not be translated.

Translation of ''Voici La Ville'' by Vincent Delerm

Song: Voici La Ville (Here Is the City)

Artist: Vincent Delerm

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♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪ 

Here is the city 

That I told you about 

Lying immobile, as it was

From here you can see,

From the hill,

The panorama, 

At night, the factories.

Here is the city,

Antique dealers and prefects, 

The obedient bourgeoisie,

The Rouen pharmacists,

From here you can see

The signs, the displays, 

The Seine below,

At night, the factories.

Here is the city 

Where I was searching for 

The eyes of the girls, 

A protective coating defeated. 

From here one sees

A party that is ending 

The antennas on the roofs 

At night, the factories.

From here one sees 

The lovers, the peninsula 

And my life in front of you. 

Here is my city.

Chocolat (Chocolate) by Thomas Fersen

Chocolat (Chocolate) by Thomas Fersen 

My cigarette behind my ear 

And my large sunglasses.

They both hint at what I'm doing,

So people around just stand gaping 

My shoes with a rat's nose 

are tickled by the others' odor

And since they don't have anything to do 

They let their poodle off the leash 

And the dog jumped on me 

It ate my chocolate

It ate my granola 

And then it licked my fingers 

The dog tasted flour 

It tasted aspirin 

It tasted soap

And the soap wasn't good, 

Nope!

There's some police in my socks

Some mates in my Bermuda shorts 

In my mask and in my snorkel 

And on my large radio cassette 

They've listened to the music 

That came from Jamaica 

They've listened to Bob (Marley)

While searching through my wardrobe 

(Chorus)

They fly through my boxer shorts 

Yet they are harmless

They even seem a little embarrassed 

They don't think to get some fresh air 

My suitcase is falling apart 

She pulls back in her tongue of material 

She has a large square backside 

But she doesn't have anything to declare 

And the dog jumped on me 

It ate my chocolate 

It ate my jam

Then it licked my face 

I'm surrounded by cops

Who are searching for the Jamaican 

But it's not here anymore 

It was in the chocolate

Oh yeah!

The Terrace (La Terrasse) – Yann Tiersen

The Terrace (La Terrasse) – Yann Tiersen

One afternoon, on Jordain street,

You could say that we were fine,

Sitting at the terrace of a cafe opposite each other

You could see our apartment from there.

I no longer remember if we were silent

Or if we whispered in the cafe downstairs,

But I can still see the table and your hands*,

The tea, the coffee and the sugar on the side.

Then suddenly it goes away, it all falls apart,

We didn't really understand, though everything continued

While the balance between us disappeared,

Never again to be calm, we fell from the wire**.

That afternoon, on Jordain street,

In fact everything wasn't going so well,

Sitting at the terrace of a cafe opposite each other

You could see our apartment,

So sad finally with us inside it.

*Literally: But I can still very well see again (in my head) the table, and your hands...

**This is supposed to be a reference to a high-wire act, which requires a great deal of balance.

Translation of ''Le Droit Des Pères'' by Cali

Song: Le Droit Des Pères (The right of fathers)

Artist: Cali

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♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪

To hell with my pride

On my knees, I've come to beg

I only want justice

To be a little bit more just this time

To hell with my pride

On my knees, I just begged

Because the justice was too just

One more time

It's a tragedy

Another step backwards

Their partial, deadly justice

Put its fat ass on the rights of fathers

It's a tragedy

Another race in reverse

Justice put its fat ass

On the rights of fathers

If I write to you today

My child, of my night

It would be for you to know

That I have lost everything

Like a dog I fought

For right to love you

Like a father may love

They left me wandering without you

In my anger

They have trampled once more

The rights of fathers

They put us

You and me on the edge

Like two wimps

And fucked the rights of fathers!

If I wrote you today

It would be because you should now

That they haven't left me

Even the right to shout

Your name in the wind

I've lost the most important

Of my battles

To see you grow every day

My child

We are some thousands of fathers

The nose in the dust

The thousands that they have cast

In this prison cell, this rat trap, this misery

Some thousands are crying

Madam Justice, lift your blinders

To the thousands begging for

Our rights as fathers

I'm going into my night

No, I won't leave you

No, I watch over you from afar

Since it's my only right

I will always have one hand on the heart

And another on your shoulder

I'll come sniffing

From afar, to the exit of your school

My love

They haven't torn down that

Not them, nor your poor mother

My eyes of a father

My love

Know that my hands will be torn

On the impassable barbwire fence

Of a money machine

Which they call justice

The oldest whore

In the line, I would piss on it

I have this feeling to commit murder

At the bottom of my anger

I don't have any bombs

No, it disgusts me

There is nothing lower

You know

These who pull out

Legs and arms

They will never tear down my heart

From these who don't have one

You know

These who provide for you

Some crumbs of days for both

Each month

I have this feeling to commit murder

At the bottom of my prayer

They have stolen

My right as a father

Translation of ''Pâte Filo'' by Malajube

Song: Pâte Filo (Filo Dough)

Artist: Malajube

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♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪ ♫♪♫♪ 

To control my shamelessness 

I covered my heart with Filo Dough 

Which protects me from you and your libido 

To control my ability to get wet

I applied nitro* to the Filo Dough 

And I bow before you and your libido 

To control my sensibility 

I covered my heart with Filo Dough 

Which protects me from you and your libido 

To control my sexuality 

I applied nitro to the Filo Dough 

And I bow before you and your libido 

*''nitro'' refers to nitroglycerine, which is an explosive.