Il s'en va mon garçon - Gilbert Bécaud

Il s’en va, mon garçon,

Il va quitter la maison.

A son tour de se battre,

D’entrer dans le grand théâtre.

Il n’a plus besoin de moi

Et il s’en va.

Il s’en va, mon garçon,

Chanter sa propre chanson.

Deux mouchoirs, trois chemises,

On a bouclé sa valise.

Maintenant il est pressé

De s’en aller.

Le voici comme un oiseau débutant

À son premier vol.

Étourdi par le printemps,

Il tourne la tête,

Il jette un dernier regard

Au revoir.

Il s’en va, mon garçon.

C'était ma belle saison,

Les Noëls et l'école,

Les vacances et la rougeole.

Voilà vingt ans de ma vie

Qui sont partis.

Je l’ai fait, mais je le connais si mal.

Entre nous, souvent il y avait des murailles.

Après tout, qui sait, il est peut-être génial,

L’animal.

Il s’en va, c’est la vie,

Vers ses amours, ses amis.

Ils vont bien rire ensemble.

Comme tout cela ressemble

À ce jour où, moi aussi,

Je suis parti!

He's leaving, my boy,

He's going to leave the house.

Its turn to fight,

To enter the great theatre.

He doesn't need me anymore

And he leaves.

He's leaving, my boy,

Sing your own song.

Two handkerchiefs, three shirts,

We packed his suitcase.

Now he's in a hurry

To go away.

Here he is like a fledgling bird

On its first flight.

Stunned by spring,

He turns his head,

He takes one last look

Goodbye.

He's leaving, my boy.

It was my beautiful season,

Christmas and school,

Vacations and measles.

It's been twenty years of my life

Who are gone.

I did, but I know him so badly.

Between us there were often walls.

After all, who knows, maybe he's awesome,

The animal.

He's leaving, that's life,

Towards his loves, his friends.

They will have a good laugh together.

How it all looks

To this day when I too

I went!