Comme un guerrier [English translation]

Like a warrior

losing his arm,

his eye in the fight.

Seeking the clash

Splitting the rock.

Like a falling warrior

One foot in the grave

We hurt each other

and the bullets whistle,

the wind, the whithering fire1

The bridge, the rails

and the river underneath,

quick and proud,

quick and proud.

A boat is awaiting you

and the Indian girl on it

with her black hair,

her ivory teeth.

We have nothing to talk about

together, we will flee

together, we will flee

Like a warrior,

with a bandaged head

who has but one hour left to live

on the canvas bag

deep inside the hammock

as the fever rises,

it's like a warrior spilling his guts.

We'll grab our rifles

We'll march over Asia

so as to see if they're happy

so as to see if they're happy

Like a warrior

doomed, doomed

with a shaven head

under the rain, the downpour,

there is the crossing bridge

and the river underneath,

quick and proud.

The boat awaits you

and the Indian girl is on it

with the rifles,

some gunpowder and lead,

and there's this blond boy

you have to drag around

despite his silken hair.

We'll grab our rifles

We too know how to fight

So as to see if they're happy

So as to see if they're happy

Like a warrior

losing his arm,

his eye in the fight.

But when you wake up

and see the bottle

and the broken lamp

under the mosquito net

then your war is lost

and the Indian girl is gone.

She never saw the sea

You had promised her she would.

She's had enough of misery

She wanted to see the lights

She wanted to see the city lights

Like a warrior

doomed, doomed

with his glass eye,

eaten away by worms,

pierced by poisoned arrows,

doomed, doomed,

with broken wings.

You'll remain alone

with flies crawling all over your face,

soles sticking to your feet.

You'll feel on your back

the coils of the cold snake

sliding.

It will be for the last time.

On the great river

The paradise on earth

This Indian girl is running,

screaming to love,

to stones and bramble

and gets no answer

And gets no answer

And then you feel so old,

your hand shading your eyes.

Evil is watching out for you.

Under the million stars

you're crying

you're crying on the canvas bag.

1. more like "hail of bullets" but I tried to avoid repeating "bullet"