Mano Solo — Botzaris song lyrics and translation
The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "Botzaris" by Mano Solo.
Lyrics
Rue Botzaris est sous la lune,
Les buttes chaumont, dans la brume,
Je longe les rendez-vous,
Ils seront la, ils seront tous fous,
Les amoureux d aujourd’hui,
Savent qu ils restent des bancs dans Paris,
Demain, le soleil d hiver,
Caressera les bouquets febriles de l espoir,
Plein la jipetiére ils iront tranquilles,
Et les pigeons perdront leurs plumes,
Avec elles nous ecriront,
L’histoire des coeurs du bitume,
Qui dans les squares nous survivront,
C est sans fin et l amour citadin,
S allonge sur du bois vert,
C est depuis toujours qu’y habite l amour et ses discours,
On pourrait croire qu’assassins,
Le temps nous casse,
On pourrait croire que le destin fatalement se trace,
Quitte un jour ou a abandonner son tour,
A deux paires d yeux, de peau de peche,
Eclat de rire de la jeunesse.
Mais ce matin, il n en ai rien,
Je t ai vu de loin,
Ton journal a la main,
A midi et d aujourd’hui, de demain,
Tu porte fiere l’image de ta promesse,
Et sans l’savoir c est a moi qu elle s 'adresse.
Oh, tant qu’il y aura des bancs, reste un pays de sentiments (x12)
(Merci à Cissa pour cettes paroles)
Lyrics translation
Botzaris Street is under the moon,
The buttes chaumont, in the mist,
I'm running out of dates.,
They'll be there, they'll all be crazy,
Lovers of today,
Know that they remain benches in Paris,
Tomorrow, the winter sun,
Will caress the feverish bouquets of hope,
Full of jipetiere they will go quiet,
And pigeons will lose their feathers,
With them they will write to us,
The history of the hearts of bitumen,
Who in the squares will survive us,
C is endless and L Love City,
S lengthens on Green Wood,
Love and its speeches have always lived there,
You might think assassins,
Time breaks us,
One might believe that fate fatally traces itself,
Leave one day or give up his turn,
Has two pairs of eyes, of fish skin,
Burst of laughter of youth.
But this morning he has nothing,
I've seen you from afar,
Your diary in your hand,
At noon and today, tomorrow,
You are proud of the image of your promise,
And without knowing it, it's me she's addressing.
Oh, as long as there are benches, remains a country of feelings (x12)
(Thanks to Cissa for these words)