Never
Will the clouds fade away
O’er the sky of your life
Never a night without ghosts1
Lit by the bloody knife
Without red on the knife1
Never
Will the ghosts give way
Over your home, I swear
In this world or elsewhere!
Never their look1
Pity killers, or misfortune,
In this world or elsewhere,
You will have neither rest nor happiness,
From the shame you’ll know the horror!
There, in the depths of my heart, sings a melody2
For me, in the depths of my heart, sings a melody
For us, in the depths of our heart,
We stifle it every time it comes back
Shame on us for being called human,
Called human,
When so often we are worse than beasts
Neither God,1
Nor man gives the right
Nor will you give thanks
For being worse than a beast
Oppressors of enslaved people2
Pity,
Arms dealers, soul stealers
Killer in the name of laws,
Arms dealers2
Or so-called ideals!
Stealers of souls2
Let heaven curse you all
Hangmen and criminals
Killing by law or by so-called ideal
You shame will be eternal!
There, in the depths of my heart, sings a melody2
For me, in the depths of my heart, sings a melody
Inside of me, at the bottom of my heart1
Sings a sad melody
For us, at the bottom of the heart
We stifle it each time it comes back
The shame of being called humans
When man is worse than beast
1. a. b. c. d. e. French2. a. b. c. d. e. Breton