Nuit et brouillard

There were twenty and a hundred of them, there were thousands of them
Naked and thin, trembling, in these sealed wagons
Who tore the night with their beating nails
There were thousands of them, there were twenty and a hundred of them
They thought they were men, but were now just numbers
Their die had long been cast
As soon as the hand falls back, only a shadow remains
They were never to see another summer again

The monotonous and unhurried flight of time
To survive another day, one hour, stubbornly
How many wheel turns, stops and starts
Who never stop distilling hope
They were called Jean-Pierre, Natacha or Samuel
Some prayed to Jesus, Jehovah or Vishnu
Others did not pray, but what did the sky care?
They simply wanted to stop living on their knees

They didn't all make it to the end of the journey
Can those who have returned be happy?
They try to forget, amazed that at their age
The veins in their arms have turned so blue
The Germans watched from the watchtowers
The moon was silent as you were silent
Looking into the distance, looking out
Your flesh was tender to their police dogs

I am now told that these words are no longer in use
That it is better to sing only love songs
May the blood dry quickly as we enter history
And there's no point in taking a guitar
But who is capable of stopping me?
The shadow became human, today is summer
I would twist the words if they needed to be twisted
So that one day children will know who you were

There were twenty of you, a hundred of you, there were thousands of you
Naked and thin, trembling, in these sealed wagons
Who tore the night with your beating nails
There were thousands of you, twenty of you, and a hundred of you