La Bohemia

Bohemia of Paris
Joyful, crazy, and gray
From a time already past
Where an attic
In Can-Can attire
You posed for me and
And I with devotion
Painted with passion
Your weary body
Until dawn
Sometimes without eating
And always without sleeping

The bohemia, the bohemia
Was love happiness
The bohemia, the bohemia
Was a flower of our age

Under a lamp
The coffee table
Happily brought us together
Talking incessantly
Dreaming of achieving
Glory
And when a painter
Found a buyer
And sold a canvas
We used to shout
Run and stroll
Joyfully through Paris

The bohemia, the bohemia
Was and I swear that I loved you
The bohemia, the bohemia
I will triumph with you

We had health
Smiles and youth
And nothing in our pockets
In cold and heat
The same good humor
Danced within us
Always fighting the same
With hunger until the end
We built castles
And the desire to live
Made us endure
And not falter

The bohemia, the bohemia
Was to look and see the dawn
The bohemia, the bohemia
Was to dream of a love

Today I returned to Paris
Crossed its gray mist
And found it changed
The lilacs are no longer there
Nor do they climb to the attic
Purple with passion
Dreaming like yesterday
I wandered through my workshop
But it has already been demolished
And in its place they have put
Below a café-bar
And above a boarding house

The bohemia, the bohemia
That I lived has lost its light
The bohemia, the bohemia
Was a flower and finally died