Below is the lyrics of the song Les glycines , artist - Serge Lama with translation
Original text with translation
Serge Lama
Sur le mur y avait des glycines,
Sur le mur y avait des glycines;
Toi, tu portais un tablier bleu,
Toi, tu portais un tablier;
Toujours le nez dans tes bassines,
Toujours le nez dans tes bassines,
En ce temps-l, on se parlait peu,
En ce temps-l, on se taisait.
C’est pas d’l’amour, pauvre Martha,
C’est pas d’l’amour, mais ca viendra.
Parat que cousin et cousine,
Parat que cousin et cousine,
A ne doit pas s’aimer d’amour, non,
A ne doit pas parler d’amour.
Alors on parlait du beau temps,
De la pluie et des fleurs des champs,
De la vendange et du labour, mais
On ne parlait jamais d’amour.
C’est pas d’l’amour, pauvre Martha,
C’est pas d’l’amour, mais ca viendra.
Puis je suis parti en usine,
Puis je suis parti en usine,
Je n’voulais pas etre fermier, moi,
Je voulais etre le premier.
Merci beaucoup, petit Jsus,
J’ai bien mang et j’ai bien bu,
Je suis aim et respect, moi
On me dis «vous"pour me parler.
C’est pas d’l’amour, pauvre Martha,
C’est pas d’l’amour, mais ca viendra.
Pourtant quand je vois des glycines,
Pourtant quand je vois des glycines,
J’ai envie de les arracher, moi,
J’ai envie de les arracher.
Parat que t’aurais eu deux filles,
Qui font partie de ma famille,
Mais comme l’amour ne me dit plus rien,
Elles n’auront jamais de cousins.
C’est pas d’l’amour, pauvre Martha,
C’est pas d’la haine, mais ca viendra.
On the wall were wisteria,
On the wall were wisteria;
You, you wore a blue apron,
You were wearing an apron;
Always nose in your basins,
Always nose in your basins,
In those days, we spoke little,
In those days, we were silent.
It's not love, poor Martha,
It ain't love, but it will come.
Seems like cousin and cousin,
Seems like cousin and cousin,
A must not love each other with love, no,
A must not speak of love.
So we were talking about the good weather,
Rain and wildflowers,
Of the grape harvest and the plowing, but
We never talked about love.
It's not love, poor Martha,
It ain't love, but it will come.
Then I went to the factory,
Then I went to the factory,
I didn't want to be a farmer, me,
I wanted to be the first.
Thank you very much, little Jesus,
I ate well and drank well,
I am love and respect, me
They say "you" to talk to me.
It's not love, poor Martha,
It ain't love, but it will come.
Yet when I see wisteria,
Yet when I see wisteria,
I want to tear them off, me,
I want to rip them off.
Apparently you would have had two daughters,
Who are part of my family,
But since love means nothing to me anymore,
They will never have cousins.
It's not love, poor Martha,
It's not hate, but it will come.
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