Serge Reggiani

Serge Reggiani - Sarah English translation lyrics

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Sarah

Prelude
(spoken: Charles Baudelaire, excerpt from Sarah la louchette1)
I do not have a famous lioness for a mistress :
the wench borrows all the glitter from my soul ;
Invisible to the stares of the jeering world,
her beauty only blossoms in my saddened heart.
For a pair of shoes she has sold her soul.
But our good Lord would laugh if I were to be
an hypocrite2 to her and ape 	haughtiness,
me who sells my thoughts and claims to be an author.
Much worse a sin, she wears a wig.
All her beautiful black hair fled her white neck ;
this does not prevent the loving kisses
from raining down her balder than a leper's forehead.
Her eyes cross, and the effect of this strange gaze
shadowed by lashes longer than an angel's,
is such that all the stares that damned many a man
are not worth her jewish3 and ringed eye to me.
She is only twenty, yet her breast already low
hangs from both sides like a calabash,
and still, as I crawl every night over her body,
as a newborn child, I suck and gnaw at it,
and though she often does not have a dime to spare
to rub her flesh and anoint her shoulder,
I lick her silently with more ardour
than Magdalena did with both the Saviour's burning feet.
The wretched creature, left breathless by pleasure,
has her chest swollen by raucous hiccups,
and I guess from the noise of her violent breathing
that she took many a bite from the hospice bread.
Her wide uneasy eyes, during the cruel night,
believe they saw others eyes in the back of the alley,
for, having opened her heart too wide,
she is frightened without light and believes in ghosts.
Thus of tallow she uses more pounds
than an old scholar bent day and night on his books,
and fears far less hunger and its agony
than the ghosts of her defunct lovers.
If by chance you meet her in her quaint clothes,
(slipping through the corner of a forlorn street,)
Head and eyes lowered alike as a wounded pigeon,
dragging in the gutter a loose shoeheel,
gentlemen, don't you spit curses nor filth
at the painted face of this impure creature
who was one winter night driven by the hunger goddess
to raise high her petticoat in the open.
This very misery is my everything, my riches,
my pearl, my jewel, my queen, my duchess,
(the one who soothed me in her triumphant bossom,
and warmed my heart in her cupped hands.)
Sarah (Georges Moustaki)
The woman who lies in my bed
is long past her twenties.
Eyes ringed
by years
by love affairs
from hand to mouth
worn down
by the kisses
that were too often, yet
too poorly given.
Her face bleak
despite the make-up,
paler than
a moon spot.
The woman who lies in my bed
is long past her twenties.
Her breasts so heavy
from too much love
cannot be deemed
appealing.
Her tired body
too much fondled,
too often, yet
too poorly loved.
Her back bent
seems to bear
memories
she had to escape.
The woman who lies in my bed
is long past her twenties.
Don't you laugh,
don't you touch her.
Spare your tears
and jeerings.
As the night
reunites us
her body, her hands
offer themselves to mine.
And it is her
tears and scars
covered heart
that soothes me.

Sarah

Si vous la rencontrez bizarrement parée
Traînant dans le ruisseau un talon déchaussé
Et la tête et l'oeil bas comme un pigeon blessé
Monsieur, ne crachez pas de juron ni d'ordure
Au visage fardé de cette pauvre impure
Que déesse famine a par un soir d'hiver
Contraint à relever ses jupons en plein air
Cette bohème-là, c'est mon bien, ma richesse
Ma perle, mon bijou, ma reine, ma duchesse...
(Charles Baudelaire)

La femme qui est dans mon lit
N'a plus vingt ans depuis longtemps
Les yeux cernés
Par les années
Par les amours
Au jour le jour
La bouche usée
Par les baisers
Trop souvent, mais...
Trop mal donnés
Le teint blafard
Malgré le fard
Plus pâle qu'une
Tâche de lune.

La femme qui est dans mon lit
N'a plus vingt ans depuis longtemps
Les seins si lourds
De trop d'amour
Ne portent pas
Le nom d'appâts
Le corps lassé
Trop caressé
Trop souvent, mais...
Trop mal aimé
Le dos voûté
Semble porter
Des souvenirs
Qu'elle a dû fuir.
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Copyrights:

Author: Georges Moustaki

Composer: Georges Moustaki

Publisher: Polygram

Details:

Released in: 2003

Language: French

Translations: German , English

Appearing on: Les 50 plus belles chansons (2007) , Best Of (2019)

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