Je Pense À Mes Amis [English translation]

When in autumn the n-th Lolita ditches me

misogyny, I imagine myself roaming

from adventure to adventure and from charybdis to scylla,

I think of them, to hell with lovers.

I think of my friends

I think of my friends

I think of my friends and then

I call my friends Nicolas, Pierre, Emilie

They sing at the far end of a wire, thousands of years from me

My Julien tomorrow it is sping,

In our blue house the children wait for nothing more than you

and the poesies that you sow in the wind

and under the white flakes.

I think of my friends

I think of my friends

I think of my friends and then

see again my friends Seb, Auréliean, Virginie

Then drunken dead people around the wooden table try

to speak of love and of the good god

while at midnight we will go off to fish without bait,

the girls fish of our 17th year,

watch the missing person.

Whom his friends miss, his friends miss him, his friends miss him here,

but think of his friends, and sing like this

I think of my friends

I think of my friends

I think of my friends here

and my friends miss me

Nicolas, Pierre, Emilie

I think of my friends, I think of my friends here

and my friends miss me, Seb, Auréliean, Virginie