Enfin le printemps [Vise mon Jules] [English translation]

Target, my Jules,

This scoundrel

Who falls into our arms

Since the time

We began to wait for him,

Like a bomb, here he is.

Here he is: spring,

Everything flowering with lilacs

Who come around dancing,

Dancing the java.

Here he is, this thug,

To the sound of the accordion

Which searches for love

Pushing its song.

Listen how he heckles

All of those with throbbing hearts.

Winter draws straws.

At last, spring. . .

Don't shake your head.

You'd be a real idiot

To worry and fret

When, above all lands

Floats a little air

Of revolution.

For you, I took out

My silk dress,

My baubles

To sleep on the grass,

Listening to to the lilies tinkle. . .

Target, my Jules,

This scoundrel

Who falls into our arms

Since the time

We began to wait for him,

Like a bomb, here he is.

Here he is: spring,

Everything flowering with lilacs

Who come around dancing,

Dancing the java.

There's a crowd in the streets

Following the fanfares

With naked shoulders

And everyone's on their balconies.

It's the poets' festival,

And I love you madly

And that runs in my head.

Finally, spring. . .

I get vertigo looking in your eyes.

I do acrobatics in the blue,

I see double and it's better.

Target my heart, all the way up there. . .

Which is behaving like a kite.

Catch it, if you can,

My love, my love

Who's going on the lam. . .

Finally spring!

• Artist:Édith Piaf