Les Parfums De Sa Vie [English translation]

.

.

That's true; in her bedsheets, worn-out

Until dawn to the unknown,

She has rolled half-naked

her body from arms to arms outstretched.

That's true; from the wind of her hair

To her blue saffron perfumes,

Little by little, she has burned

Her freedom, a way of play.

She's got in her gaze

The traces of a banner,

The shadow of a hearse

Dragged by some looters.

I, I've loved her so much,

Loved so much, loved so much

Which my body's kneaded of

The perfumes of her life.

I, I've adored her

Much-adored

Which my body's kneaded of

The perfumes of her life

That's true; at the dawn of her misconducts,

Her crumpled eyes are late1

When the hour rings their leave,

Or of a smile or for a glance

She has her body open to the adultery' shores

To the bitter caress of fleeting loves

I, I've loved her so much,

Loved so much, loved so much

Which my body's kneaded of

The perfumes of her life.

I, I've adored her

Much-adored

Which my body's kneaded of

The perfumes of her life

That's true; she has often offered

Some nights, some dazzling dreams

1. Note: In this translation, whenever possible and even if it means breaking certain writing rules, I've tried to keep the way the author plays with words as much as possible. Indeed, for example, in French, no more than in English, we say "the crumpled eyes." It's a word generally used in connection with a sheet or a shirt. Yet that's the term used here. The author indeed plays with this parallel between the eyes and the sheets. The author uses this style of transversality between the words and the song's theme on several occasions.

• Artist:Art Mengo