Göttingen

Of course, it's not the Seine
It's not the Bois de Vincennes
But it's quite lovely all the same
In Göttingen, in Göttingen

No quays and no refrains
That lament and drag on
But love still blossoms there
In Göttingen, in Göttingen

They know better than us, I think
The history of our kings of France
Herman, Peter, Helga, and Hans
In Göttingen

And let no one be offended
But the tales of our childhood
Once upon a time, begin
In Göttingen

Of course, we have the Seine
And then our Bois de Vincennes
But God, how beautiful the roses are
In Göttingen, in Göttingen

We have our bleak mornings
And Verlaine's gray soul
For them, it's melancholy itself
In Göttingen, in Göttingen

When they have nothing to tell us
They stay there smiling at us
But we still understand them
The blond children of Göttingen

And too bad for those who are surprised
And let the others forgive me
But the children are the same
In Paris or in Göttingen

Oh, may the time of blood and hatred never return
For there are people I love
In Göttingen, in Göttingen

And if the alarm were to sound
If we had to take up arms again
My heart would shed a tear
For Göttingen, for Göttingen

But it's quite lovely all the same
In Göttingen, in Göttingen

And if the alarm were to sound
If we had to take up arms again
My heart would shed a tear
For Göttingen, for Göttingen