The postman

French

Le facteur

Le jeune facteur est mort
Il n'avait que dix-sept ans

L'amour ne peut plus voyager
Il a perdu son messager

C'est lui qui venait chaque jour
Les bras chargés de tous mes mots d'amour
C'est lui qui tenait dans ses mains
La fleur d'amour cueillie dans ton jardin

Il est parti dans le ciel bleu
Comme un oiseau enfin libre et heureux
Et quand son âme l'a quitté
Un rossignol quelque part a chanté

Je t'aime autant que je t'aimais
Mais je ne peux le dire désormais

Il a emporté avec lui
Les derniers mots que je t'avais écrit

Il n'ira plus sur les chemins
Fleuris de roses et de jasmins
Qui mènent jusqu'à ta maison
L'amour ne peut plus voyager
Il a perdu son messager
Et mon cœur est comme en prison

Il est parti l'adolescent
Qui t'apportait mes joies et mes tourments
L'hiver a tué le printemps
Tout est fini pour nous deux maintenant

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English

The postman

The young postman is dead.
He was only seventeen.

Love cannot travel anymore,
it has lost its messenger.

It's him who came every day,
arms full of my loving words.
It's him who held in his hands
the flower of love picked from your garden.

He soared into the blue sky
like a bird, free and happy at last,
and when his soul left him
a nightingale sang somewhere.

I love you just as much as I did,
but now I can't say it anymore.

He took with him
the last words I had written to you.

He will no longer walk these paths
bordered with rose and jasmine
leading to your house.
Love cannot travel anymore,
it has lost its messenger,
and my heart feels like in jail.

He went away, the teenager
who brought my joys and torments to you.
Winter killed spring,
it's all over for us now.

Submitted by Guest on Mon, 15/10/2012 - 21:02
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