La Montagne
Jean Ferrat
The Mountain
They leave one by one the country
To go earn their living
Far from the land where they were born
For a long time they dreamed of it
Of the city and its secrets
Of the formica and the cinema
The old ones were not original
When they mechanically wiped
With a backhand the lips
But they all knew how
To kill quail or partridge
And eat the goat cheese
Yet how beautiful the mountain is
How can one imagine
Seeing a flight of swallows
That autumn has just arrived?
With their hands above their heads
They had built low walls
Up to the top of the hill
Regardless of the days, the years
They all had a well-born soul
Knotty like a vine
The vines run in the forest
The wine will no longer be drawn
It was a horrible swill
But it made centenarians
Not knowing what to do with it
If it didn't make your head spin
Yet how beautiful the mountain is
How can one imagine
Seeing a flight of swallows
That autumn has just arrived?
Two goats and then a few sheep
One good year and the other not
And without vacations and outings
The girls want to go to the ball
There is nothing more normal
Than wanting to live one's life
Their life they will be cops or civil servants
Waiting without worrying
For the retirement bell to ring
You have to know what you love
And go back to your H.L.M.
Eat hormone-fed chicken
Yet how beautiful the mountain is
How can one imagine
Seeing a flight of swallows
That autumn has just arrived?
