The height of the grass
The water runs and makes its rounds
The superb sky
Dazzles the surroundings
The grand sun is playing catch
With the flowering apple trees
The ball, before the running water
Chants the melodies of Paris
Dance, dance at this party of chance
Dance, dance, my daydreams...
The parasols on the riverbanks, gesturing gently,
Signal a kind of reverence
The regulars
While a girl dances
In a sailor's arms
The sky is reckless
But this love is not the last...
Dance, dance at this party of chance
Dance up to the springtime sky...
The wind, turning the leaves of the trees
With the song of the larks, makes a bouquet
But it hardly hears anything
But the words of this boy
Words of love so vulgar
They make the larks laugh in the sky
Dance, dance at this party of chance,
Dance, dance with my song
I still think of that day last year
On my shoulder, my dream is held prisoner
It has neither tail nor head
However, I have a soft spot
For sailors on leave
Love is always renewing
Dance, dance, at this party of chance,
Dance, dance, my bird of a heart