Ricet Barrier — La java des gaulois song lyrics and translation
The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "La java des gaulois" by Ricet Barrier.
Lyrics
Poilus, barbus, vtus de peaux de btes, ils bravaient la tempte.
Tue-le, tue-la, c’tait la loi des Gaulois!
Ils prenaient la route pour chasser le mammouth et courir le guilledou
Ils coupaient le gui, mais propos o, o coupaient-ils donc le houx?
La chasse finie, les hommes runis plongeaient sur la nourriture.
Au petit Chilpric qu’tait rachitique, on jetait les pluchures.
Poilu, barbu, le druide noble tte arrivait pour la qute.
Paie pas, planque-toi, c’tait la loi des Gaulois.
Quand ils guerroyaient, mme les feuilles tremblaient
Les femmes se jetaient leurs pieds
Mais un beau matin, un sombre devin
Leur a prdit: a va barder!
Tout prs des menhirs, la troupe en dlire astiqua les fers de lance.
Vrcingtorix, un dur, un cad, tudia la carte de France.
Bard, casqu, un Jules nomm Csar arriva sur son char
Il leur a dit «Veni, veni, vidi, vici»
On se tira les tifs, on se tapa sur le pif mais on vit bientt les lgions
Des Romains pompettes qu’aimaient la piquette
Se coller dans la Vase de Soissons.
La Gaule manque de bras, dit un chef gaulois
Il faut retrousser nos manches.
Ils firent des maisons, ils firent mme les ponts
Sauf le samedi et le dimanche.
Poilus, barbus, ils guinchaient le samedi, au bal sur pilotis.
Flnant, crnant, on causait entre poteaux
En regardant les Gauloises jouer les Pompadour
Et la Gaule endimanche chantait plein gosier
En trinquant l’amour, l’amour!
Lyrics translation
Hairy, bearded, vtus of skins of sticks, they braved the tempt.
Kill him, kill her, it was the law of the Gauls!
They were on the road to hunt the mammoth and run the guilledou
They cut the mistletoe, but about o, o did they cut the Holly?
The hunt was over, the Runi men were diving on the food.
When Little Chilpric was rickety, we threw away the plugs.
Hairy, bearded, the Druid Noble tte arrived for the qute.
Don't pay, hide, it was the law of the Gauls.
When they fought, Mrs. the leaves trembled
Women threw their feet
But one fine morning, a dark soothsayer
He said to them: go barder!
All around the menhirs, the troupe in lyre blew the spearheads.
Vrcingtorix, a hard, a cad, toudia the map of France.
Bard, casqu, a Jules named Csar arrived on his chariot
He told them "Veni, veni, vidi, vici»
We pulled the tifs, we slap on the BIP but we soon saw the lgions
Roman pompettes who loved the picket
Stick in the Vase of Soissons.
Gaul lacks arms, says a Gaul leader
We need to roll up our sleeves.
They made houses, they made Mrs. bridges
Except Saturday and Sunday.
Hairy, bearded, they squeaked on Saturday, at the stilt ball.
Flnant, crnant, we were talking between Poles
Watching the Gauls play the Pompadour
And the Gaul endimanche sang full throat
By crunching love, love!