Göttingen [English translation]

Of course, it's not the Seine

It's not the Bois de Vincennes.

But it's pretty nevertheless

In Göttingen, in Göttingen.

No quays, and no old tunes,

Moaning and dragging on.

But anyhow love blossoms there

In Göttingen, in Göttingen.

They know better than us, I think,

The history of the kings of France

Hermann, Peter, Helga and Hans,

In Göttingen.

And nobody should feel offended,

But the tales of our childhood,

"Once upon a time..", they start

In Göttingen.

Of course, we have the Seine,

And then - our Bois de Vincennes,

But God, the roses are beautiful

In Göttingen, in Göttingen.

We have our pale mornings,

And the grey soul of Verlaine.

Them, they are melancholy itself

In Göttingen, in Göttingen.

When they don't have anything to say,

They stay here and smile to us.

But we understand them anyway,

The blond children of Göttingen.

Too bad for those who are stunned

May the others forgive me,

But children are the same,

In Paris or in Göttingen.

May never come back

The time of blood and hatred.

Because there are people I love

In Göttingen, in Göttingen.

When would ring the alarm,

If we had to take up arms again,

My heart would shed a tear

For Göttingen, for Göttingen.

But still, it is pretty

In Göttingen, in Göttingen.

When would ring the alarm,

If we had to take up arms again,

My heart would shed a tear

For Göttingen, for Göttingen.