Bou dou ba da bouh ! - Mayol

Parmis les Sénégalais

Qu’on fit venir pour la Revue

L' jour du quatorze juillet

Se trouvait, la chose est connue

Un grand gaillard à la peau noire

Aux dents comme l’ivoire

Je vais vous conter son histoire

Dans cette chanson

D’abord, voici le nom

De ce brave garçon

Il s’appelait Bou-dou-ba-da-bouh

Il jouait d' la flûte en acajou

Je n’exagère pas

C'était l' plus beau gars

De toute la nouba, ah

Quand son régiment défilait

Au son joyeux des flageolets

Le Tout-Tombouctou

Admirait surtout

Celui d' Bou-dou-ba-da-bouh

En se promenant un matin

Au coin d' la rue du Quatre-Septembre

Il connut un p’tit trottin

Aux cheveux dorés comme l’ambre

Il s’aimèrent tout une semaine

Mais le Turgot, pas de veine

Partit pour la terre africaine

Ce fut déchirant !

Et la blonde enfant

Disant en pleurant

Il s’appelait Bou-dou-ba-da-bouh

Il jouait d' la flûte en acajou

Et v’là qu’y s’en va

Dans le Sahara

Avec la nouba, ah

Toutes les femmes sont folles de lui

Et ce qui me désole c’est qu’aujourd’hui

Celles de Tombouctou

Doivent faire joujou

Avec Bi-di Bou-dou-ba-da-bouh

Un soldat de la Légion

Un jour, vint frapper à sa porte

Bien qu’elle tremblât d'émotion

Elle se contint et resta forte

Parlez-moi vite de lui, dit-elle

Voilà, Mademoiselle

Je vous apporte des nouvelles

D’un de mes amis

A qui j’ai promis

D' vous dire ce que j' vous dis

Il s’appelait Bou-dou-ba-da-bouh

Il fit son devoir jusqu’au bout

Et dans un combat

Il est mort là-bas

Avec la nouba, ah

Oui mais en mourant, sur son coeur

Il a pris sa belle croix d’honneur

Mamzelle, c’est pour vous

C'était l' seul bijou

Du beau Bou-dou-ba-da-bouh

Among the Senegalese

Brought in for the Review

Fourteenth of July

Was, the thing is known

A tall, black-skinned man

With teeth like ivory

I'll tell you his story

In this song

First, here's the name

Of this good boy

His name was Bou-dou-ba-da-bouh

He played the mahogany flute

I am not exaggerating

He was the nicest guy

From all the nuba, ah

When his regiment paraded

To the happy sound of the flageolets

All-Timbuktu

Especially admired

That of Bou-dou-ba-da-bouh

On a walk one morning

At the corner of rue du Quatre-Septembre

He had a little run

With golden hair like amber

They loved each other for a week

But the Turgot, no luck

Departed for African land

It was heartbreaking!

And the blonde child

Saying while crying

His name was Bou-dou-ba-da-bouh

He played the mahogany flute

And that's where it goes

In the Sahara

With the nouba, ah

All the women are crazy about him

And what saddens me is that today

Those of Timbuktu

have to play

With Bi-di Bou-dou-ba-da-bouh

A Legion soldier

One day came knocking at her door

Although she trembled with emotion

She held herself back and stayed strong

Tell me about him soon, she said

There you go, miss.

I bring you news

From a friend of mine

To whom I promised

To tell you what I tell you

His name was Bou-dou-ba-da-bouh

He did his duty to the end

And in a fight

He died there

With the nouba, ah

Yes but dying, on his heart

He took his fine cross of honor

Mamzelle, this is for you

It was the only jewel

Beautiful Bou-dou-ba-da-bouh