This is as yet a somewhat imperfect translation. It needs a degree of phrasal and rhythmic finessing. But this will do for now I guess for anyone looking for some help in appreciating the song in French, 'cause even as it stands now, it's quite accurate and I'd say more or less faithful even in its tone to the original. However, once I've finalized this into a something better, I'll post the updated version here.
PADAM... PADAM...
Paroles: Henri Contet, musique: Norbert Glanzberg, enr. 15 octobre 1951
[The "cet air" of the original refers to a melody, a musical air, as should be clear when you read the whole thing. It's a song that is basically about itself, it talks about its own haunted, mystical and tortured spirit.
Now, there is an equivalent use of the English word 'air' (say: as in 'Londonderry Air') meaning a tune. And hence, I've preserved this noun as one more faithful to the French original and haven't reverted to the more commonly used 'tune' or 'melody']
Cet air qui m'obsède jour et nuit
Cet air n'est pas né d'aujourd'hui
Il vient d'aussi loin que je viens
Traîné par cent mille musicians
This air that haunts me day and night This air isn’t born of today
It comes from as far back as where I come from Dragged by a hundred thousand musicians
Un jour cet air me rendra folle
Cent fois j'ai voulu dire pourquoi
Mais il m'a coupé la parole
Il parle toujours avant moi
Et sa voix couvre ma voix
One day this air will drive me mad. A hundred times I’ve wanted to ask why
But it interrupts my words, it always speaks before me, and its voice overwhelms mine.
Padam... padam... padam...
Il arrive en courant derrière moi
Padam... padam... padam...
Il me fait le coup du souviens-toi
Padam... padam... padam...
C'est un air qui me montre du doigt
Et je traîne après moi comme une drôle d'erreur
Cet air qui sait tout par coeur
Padam... padam... padam... It arrives running behind me
Padam... padam... padam... It makes me the stroke of your remembering you
Padam... padam... padam... It is an air that shows me the finger
And I drag it after me like a funny mistake, this air that knows the heart of everything.
Il dit: "Rappelle-toi tes amours
Rappelle-toi puisque c'est ton tour
Y a pas de raison pour que tu ne pleures pas
Avec tes souvenirs sur les bras..."
It says: "Remember your loves, Recall since it’s your tour If there’s a reason for you not to cry With your memories in your hands... "
Et moi je revois ceux qui restent
Mes vingt ans font battre tambour
Je vois s'entrebattre des gestes
Toute la comédie des amours
Sur cet air qui va toujours
And I meet again those that remain, My twenty years of beating the drum
I see my own gestures between the beats, the whole comedy of those loves, on this air that always goes
Padam... padam... padam...
Des "je t'aime" de quatorze-juillet
Padam... padam... padam...
Des "toujours" qu'on achète au rabais
Padam... padam... padam...
Des "veux-tu" en voilà par paquets
Et tout ça pour tomber juste au coin de la rue
Sur l'air qui m'a reconnue
Padam... padam... padam... Of the "I love you"s of July the fourteenth
Padam... padam... padam... Of the "forever" that one buys at a discount...
Padam... padam... padam... Of the “I want you”s in here by packets
And all that to fall deservedly to the corner of the street, on the air that has recognized me.
Écoutez le chahut qu'il me fait
Comme si tout mon passé défilait
Faut garder du chagrin pour après
Listen to the uproar that it causes in me / As if it’s necessary to have all my past paraded / to preserve the grief for the days to come
J'en ai tout un solfège sur cet air qui bat...
Qui bat comme un coeur de bois...
I have a whole musical theory on this air that beats... That which beats like a wooden heart...
This is as yet a somewhat imperfect translation. It needs a degree of phrasal and rhythmic finessing. But this will do for now I guess for anyone looking for some help in appreciating the song in French, 'cause even as it stands now, it's quite accurate and I'd say more or less faithful even in its tone to the original. However, once I've finalized this into a something better, I'll post the updated version here.
PADAM... PADAM...
Paroles: Henri Contet, musique: Norbert Glanzberg, enr. 15 octobre 1951
[The "cet air" of the original refers to a melody, a musical air, as should be clear when you read the whole thing. It's a song that is basically about itself, it talks about its own haunted, mystical and tortured spirit.
Now, there is an equivalent use of the English word 'air' (say: as in 'Londonderry Air') meaning a tune. And hence, I've preserved this noun as one more faithful to the French original and haven't reverted to the more commonly used 'tune' or 'melody']
Cet air qui m'obsède jour et nuit Cet air n'est pas né d'aujourd'hui Il vient d'aussi loin que je viens Traîné par cent mille musicians
This air that haunts me day and night This air isn’t born of today It comes from as far back as where I come from Dragged by a hundred thousand musicians
Un jour cet air me rendra folle Cent fois j'ai voulu dire pourquoi Mais il m'a coupé la parole Il parle toujours avant moi Et sa voix couvre ma voix
One day this air will drive me mad. A hundred times I’ve wanted to ask why But it interrupts my words, it always speaks before me, and its voice overwhelms mine.
Padam... padam... padam... Il arrive en courant derrière moi Padam... padam... padam... Il me fait le coup du souviens-toi Padam... padam... padam... C'est un air qui me montre du doigt Et je traîne après moi comme une drôle d'erreur Cet air qui sait tout par coeur
Padam... padam... padam... It arrives running behind me Padam... padam... padam... It makes me the stroke of your remembering you Padam... padam... padam... It is an air that shows me the finger And I drag it after me like a funny mistake, this air that knows the heart of everything.
Il dit: "Rappelle-toi tes amours Rappelle-toi puisque c'est ton tour Y a pas de raison pour que tu ne pleures pas Avec tes souvenirs sur les bras..."
It says: "Remember your loves, Recall since it’s your tour If there’s a reason for you not to cry With your memories in your hands... "
Et moi je revois ceux qui restent Mes vingt ans font battre tambour Je vois s'entrebattre des gestes Toute la comédie des amours Sur cet air qui va toujours
And I meet again those that remain, My twenty years of beating the drum I see my own gestures between the beats, the whole comedy of those loves, on this air that always goes
Padam... padam... padam... Des "je t'aime" de quatorze-juillet Padam... padam... padam... Des "toujours" qu'on achète au rabais Padam... padam... padam... Des "veux-tu" en voilà par paquets Et tout ça pour tomber juste au coin de la rue Sur l'air qui m'a reconnue
Padam... padam... padam... Of the "I love you"s of July the fourteenth Padam... padam... padam... Of the "forever" that one buys at a discount... Padam... padam... padam... Of the “I want you”s in here by packets And all that to fall deservedly to the corner of the street, on the air that has recognized me.
Écoutez le chahut qu'il me fait Comme si tout mon passé défilait Faut garder du chagrin pour après
Listen to the uproar that it causes in me / As if it’s necessary to have all my past paraded / to preserve the grief for the days to come
J'en ai tout un solfège sur cet air qui bat... Qui bat comme un coeur de bois...
I have a whole musical theory on this air that beats... That which beats like a wooden heart...