C'est en septembre

The olive trees are giving up
The grapes are blushing
And the sand has turned cold
Oh white sun
Lifeguards and seasonal workers
Return to their real jobs
And the figurines will be carved
Before Christmas
It's in September
When the sailboats are unveiled
And the beach trembles under the shadow
Of a tanned autumn
It's in September
That we can truly live
In summer, my country
In summer, it's all a mess
The campers and the propane
Under the blazing sun
The big fair of illusions
The shorts too short, the swimsuits too long
The Dutch girls and their melons
From Cavaillon
It's in September
When summer puts its shoes back on
And the beach is like a belly
That no one has touched
It's in September
That my country can breathe
The land of my youth
Where my father is buried
My school was heated
Under the blazing sun
In May, I’m leaving
And I leave you to the strangers
To go be a stranger myself
Under other skies
But in September
When I return to where I was born
And my beach recognizes me
Opens its arms like a bride
It's in September
That I celebrate the new year
It's in September
That I fall asleep under the olive tree