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French Translation Discussions with colleagues about grammar, style, vocabulary or other various fields, to help you in your French translation works or simply to enrich your francophone personal culture.

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Old 07-05-2008, 09:24 AM   #1
Frank van den Eeden
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Default Les roses blanches

Les roses blanches

C'était un gamin un gosse de Paris
Sa seule famille était sa mère
Une pauvre fille aux grands yeux flétris
Par le chagrin et la misère

Elle aimait les fleurs, les roses surtout
Et le cher bambin, le dimanche
Lui apportait des roses blanches
Au lieu d'acheter des joujoux
La câlinant bien tendrement
Il disait en les lui donnant

C'est aujourd'hui dimanche
Tiens ma jolie maman
Voici des roses blanches
Toi qui les aimes tant
Va quand je serai grand
J'achèterai au marchand
Toutes ses roses blanches
Pour toi jolie maman

Au dernier printemps le destin brutal
Vint frapper la blonde ouvrière
Elle tomba malade et pour l'hôpital
Le gamin vit partir sa mère
Un matin d'avril parmi les promeneurs
N'ayant plus un sous dans sa poche
Sur un marché le pauvre gosse
Furtivement vola quelques fleurs
La fleuriste l'ayant surpris, en baissant la tête il lui dit

C'est aujourd'hui dimanche
Et j'allais voir maman
J'ai pris ces roses blanches
Elle les aime tant
Sur son petit lit blanc
Là-bas elle m'attend
J'ai pris ces roses blanches
Pour ma jolie maman

La marchande émue doucement lui dit
Emporte-les je te les donne
Elle l'embrassa et l'enfant partit
Tout rayonnant qu'on le pardonne
Puis à l'hôpital il vint en courant
Pour offrir les fleurs à sa mere
Mais en le voyant une infirmière
Lui dit: Tu n'as plus de maman
Et le gamin s'agenouillant, dit devant le petit lit blanc

C'est aujourd'hui dimanche
Tiens ma jolie maman
Voici des roses blanches
Toi qui les aimais tant
Et quand tu t'en iras
Au grand jardin là-bas
Ces belles roses blanches
Tu les emporteras

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A-jr7ExNfq8&eurl=http://search.yahoo.com/search;_ylt=A0geu4t_km9IYE8Bvs1XNyoA?p=video+C%C3% A9line+Dion+les+roses+blanches


The white roses

He was a little boy, a chappie in Paris
his only family was his mother
a poor girl with eyes glazed
by chagrin and misery

She loved flowers, especially roses
and the dear little boy, on Sunday
took her white roses
instead of buying little toys
softly cuddling her
he said while giving them

Today is Sunday
for you my pretty mama
here are some white roses
for you who love them so
Know when I grow up
I will buy from the merchant
All his white roses
For you pretty mama

Last fall brutal destiny
hit the blond worker
she fell ill and to the hospital
the little boy saw his mother go
An April morning among the strollers
with not a penny in his pocket
on the market the poor boy
furtively stole some flowers
caught by the saleswoman, bowing his head said to her

Today is Sunday
I was going to see mama
I have taken these white roses
that she loves so much
In her little white bed
She awaits me there
I have taken these white roses
for my pretty mama

The saleswoman is moved and softly says to him
take them I give them to you
she kissed him and the boy went away
beaming that he was forgiven
Then he came running to the hospital
To give the flowers to his mother
But upon noticing him, a nurse
says to him “you have no more mama”
And the little boy kneels and says in front of the little white bed

Today is Sunday
for you my pretty mama
here are some white roses
you who loved them so
And when you go away
To the large garden over there
These beautiful white roses
You can take with you



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Last edited by Frank van den Eeden : 07-06-2008 at 08:03 AM.
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Old 07-07-2008, 08:53 AM   #2
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Wow! This one was tough for me!! Great job! Beautiful!
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