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Translation
The Anarchitectures
To the lambs flayed far away
To the rooster's cry in the distance
At the edge of the great wheat fields
Humanity, its hands tied,
Scotched to the border of the woods
Little Thumb wonders why
His parents gave up the fight
To the great wind of the communicators
Of all our temples, the churches
No longer have the grandeur of the cathedrals
At the age of anarchitectures
And slingshots fired against the walls
The marbles bags took off (to sea)
And the romances around the thrushes,
All those things from before
Fuck, I can't see the shore anymore
For we must accept from time
This ever lower evolution
To vulgarity, the dealers
Of freedoms for our children
He'll be fitted out, that's for sure,
To speak to the whole Earth
But we won't have anything to say, of course,
Only what they see on the screens
Surely, the more bourgeois people will always
Know how to keep their feathers
When the people sees their wings,
Hurt by the anvil's hits
The age of educated people is over,
The age of popular people too
The age of literary men is over
Above the bank accounts
And the lilas flowers in the bouquets,
Forgetting the age of lilies of the valley
All I see are the chrysanthemums
Of orthography in the poems
The age of Latin, of Racine is over
To the good backs of our origins1
The age of the holy words is over,
Say hello to the stupidest one's words
They're over, those neither Good God nor master
This time belongs to the appearances' customer
The age of our youths is over
The nightingale's chant is over
Over, goodbye to you, brother of mine
This time belong to the electrons' field
Get a subscription, nation of imbeciles
Via satellite, to other imbeciles
To the freed trade of nothingness
To each his good word, of course
It's the right of being an imbecile,
The right to be an ignorant
Every man is equal in the carnaval
I know it hurts, my friend
It's the freedom of speech
It's the freedom of speech
To proclaim in every faubourg,
Especially to every rack
Our weaknesses and our speeches
About our sad identities
Hello to you, my brother of the faubourg
Hello to you, Bérurier (fan)
I can't see anything around here,
Only cheap sadnesses
Hello to you, my brother of the suburb
You, whom we'd like to leave to rot away
In the ghetto of consumers,
In the ghetto of illiterates
Hello to you, fighting woman
You, whose battle took the rust
How could I tell you, but nowadays,
Feminists are lacking some balls?
Hello to you, my faraway star
The illuminated one of our roads
Will soon light up, I know it,
If we don't lose its perfume
May all our spirits be vigilant,
And so long to all those journalisms
Since we must always fight against
The fascisms of the new temples
- 1. I never heard 'au bon dos' before, I'm not sure what it means here.
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Submitted by 
crimson_antics on 2015-02-20
crimson_antics on 2015-02-20Added in reply to request by 
EllaIris
EllaIris Last edited by crimson_antics on 2015-03-10
crimson_antics on 2015-03-10✕
Please help to translate "Les anarchitectures"
Damien Saez: Top 3
| 1. | Mon Européenne |
| 2. | Guantánamo |
| 3. | Jeune et con |
Idioms from "Les anarchitectures"
| 1. | au chant du coq |
| 2. | bon marché |
Comments
Russia is waging a disgraceful war on Ukraine. Stand With Ukraine!
About translator
As is often the case with Saez, this is no continuous text, but a string of sentences that don't always make sense, even in French.