Bonhomme [English translation]

The wind's bite withstood

The poor old woman of the Somme

Gathers together wood

To warm Bonhomme

Bonhomme who's about to die

A natural death

In melancholy, she wends away

Through the forest deathly pale

Where once she dreamed quite gay

Of whom her heart did wail

Her heart did wail and who'll die

A natural death

Nothing will stop the rigour

With which the old reaper woman

Numb-fingered gathers wood with vigour

Nothing, nothing human

For Bonhomme will die

A natural death

No, nothing will deprive

That inner voice of doom

From saying: "When you arrive

Back in that fateful room,

Bonhomme will have already died

A natural death."

Nor will that other dark voice

Rising from her deepest soul

Remind her that at times of choice

He went out for more than a stroll

For Bonhomme, he will die

A natural death

• Artist:Georges Brassens
• Album:Bonhomme