My favorite Song

[A Former User]

La Foule

Release date: 1/1/1957

French Version

Je revois la ville en fête et en délire
Suffoquant sous le soleil et sous la joie
Et j’entends dans la musique les cris, les rires
Qui éclatent et rebondissent autour de moi
Et perdue parmi ces gens qui me bousculent
Étourdie, désemparée, je reste là
Quand soudain, je me retourne, il se recule
Et la foule vient me jeter entre ses bras

Emportés par la foule qui nous traîne
Nous entraîne
Écrasés l’un contre l’autre
Nous ne formons qu’un seul corps
Et le flot sans effort
Nous pousse, enchaînés l’un et l’autre
Et nous laisse tous deux
Épanouis, enivrés et heureux

Entraînés par la foule qui s’élance
Et qui danse
Une folle farandole
Nos deux mains restent soudées
Et parfois soulevés
Nos deux corps enlacés s’envolent
Et retombent tous deux
Épanouis, enivrés et heureux

English Version

I remember (lit.: see again) the city, celebrating and delirious
Suffocating from (lit. under) sun and joy
And in the music I hear the cries and laughter
that burst and bounce around me
and lost amidst these jostling people
dizzy and disoriented (? maybe not the best translation), I stand still
when suddenly, I turn around, he steps back
and the crowd just throws me in his arms
Carried away by the crowd that pulls on us,
takes us in tow.
Crushed into each other
we are but one single body.
Without effort the flow
pushes us, chained to each other
and leaves us both
blossoming, intoxicated, happy
carried with the crowd that pushes ahead
and dances a mad farandola (=folk dance)
Our [two] hands remain (as) soldered,
and, at times lifted up
our entwined bodies fly away
and fall back together
blossoming, intoxicated, happy
And joy, kindled (??) by his smile
pierces me, and wells up again deep inside me (lit.: at my bottom)
But suddenly, in between laughter, I let out a cry
when, all of a sudden, the crowd tears him out of my arms
Carried away by the crowd that pulls on u
takes us in tow, moves us apart from each other (this doesn’t sound very good, but I find nothing better)
I fight and I wrestle
but the sound of his voice
is smothered in the their (=the crowds) laughter (lit.: laughs of the others)
I shout from pain, rage and anger
and I cry
carried by the crowd that pushes ahead
and dances a mad farandola
I’m carried away in the distance
I clench my fists, damning the crowd that steals from me
the man she had given me
and that I’ve never found again