La langue de chez nous

It's a beautiful language with superb words
Carrying its history through its accents
Where you can feel the music and the scent of herbs
Goat cheese and wheat bread

From Mont-Saint-Michel to Contrescarpe
Listening to the people of this country speak
It's as if the wind got caught in a harp
And kept all the harmonies

In this beautiful language with the colors of Provence
Where the flavor of things is already in the words
It's through speaking that the celebration begins
And we drink words as well as water

The voices resemble the courses of rivers and streams
They echo the meanders, the wind in the reeds
Sometimes even the torrents carrying thunder
Polishing the stones on the edge of streams

It's a beautiful language at the other end of the world
A piece of France north of a continent
Set in a vise but still so fertile
Locked in ice at the top of a volcano

It has built bridges across the Atlantic
Left its nest for another land
And like a swallow in the spring of music
It returns to sing to us its sorrows and hopes

Telling us that over there in that snowy land
It faced the winds blowing from all directions
To impose its words even in the schools
And that the language of our land is still spoken there

It's a beautiful language for those who know how to defend it
It offers treasures of infinite wealth
The words we needed to understand each other
And the strength needed to live in harmony

From Île d'Orléans to Contrescarpe
Listening to the people of this country sing
It's as if the wind got caught in a harp
And composed a whole symphony

And from Île d'Orléans to Contrescarpe
Listening to the people of this country sing
It's as if the wind got caught in a harp
And composed a whole symphony.