Cet enfant-là [English translation]

Oh, that young child,

Oh, that young child,

Looks like you, looks like you.

He draws from you

I don't know what,

His sweet smile,

Or perhaps,

When he walks,

Your same gait,

Hesitates and walks on.

He resembles

You, O, that child

And I tremble...

For, that young child,

You remember,

You wanted him,

You talked of him,

And Wonder of wonders,

I laughed when you spoke.

You would tell me,

How I wish he

Were your semblance,

Your semblance,

But I wanted

That young child

To be like you,

You wanted him to be, one day, a lawyer or a doctor.

We disagreed about the future

Of a child who was not born yet.

I wanted him to be a shephard, a gardener

Or a musician.

I figured him already, all young,

A huge piano before his fingers.

He will have some goldfish, and also sand-gardens

And big white sailing-ships

And some firebirds , enchanted islands,

And shooting-stars in the deep of his eyes.

He'll only know but the gentle ogre

Who has never eaten any children,

My godly child, my princely child, my kingly child

My marvellous child,

O my child, only mine,

We'd run merry-go-rounds for him in the snow.

We'd build for him castles in Norway, in Norway,

But that young child

Looks like her,

Has from her

I don't know what,

Her sweet smile

Or perhaps,

When he walks

Her same gait

And her grace,

my disgrace.

That young child has

Nothing from me,

Looks like you two

Now, that young child,

Now, that young child,

Looks at you,

Looks at me,

And wonders

And worries

And shyly, he walks on,

Yes, that young child,

Opens his arms

And I love him,

That child that has

Nothing from me, but looks like you,

Looks like you, like you...