Le chêne-liège [English translation]

My back leant against a cork oak

I was playing some arpeggios

Praying to God, Buddha, what do I know,

Do you think of us, a little?

The world is in the hands of strategists

Black suits, beige ties

Or turbans white as snow

Who play some funny games.

There are in our teams

People of reason, of courage,

In every camp of every age

With one only dream, to live happily.

We built cathedrals,

Spires reaching the stars,

Said monumental prayers

What could we do to top that?

Are you here, are you near

Or too far to hear our bells

Or do you keep your hands in your pockets

Or is it your tears when it rains.

Atop of your very white lodges

Can you see them wondering

Millions of ants floundering

Their heads turned towards the skies.

Are we alone in this story,

The only ones to keep believing,

Are we looking towards the right lighthouse

Or is the sky empty and hollow?

My back leant against a cork oak

Stuck in the strings of a trap

I was playing some arpeggios

I did not find anything better.

Where are you in the atmosphere,

We are waiting for you we are expecting,

But it is doubt and mystery

That you've taught me the best.

My back leant against a cork oak

I was playing some arpeggios

On a rainy afternoon.

I was playing some arpeggios

By a rainy afternoon.

• Artist:Francis Cabrel