Under the bridges flowed the gold of my youth
That I had drunk to intoxication
Wavering beneath lampposts shadow
Collapsing on roots of stone
Celebrating every minute of silence
To lose my sweetest inconscience in it
Triumphing over my immortal pleasures
Forgetting to discharge my overindulgence
In the rain, on Paris sidewalks
That I had roamed all night
Back from all my over-the-top shows
Of virtue, from these floods of nonsense
This golden mediocrity is over
Still I might have to feel it
Should my heart not beat fast enough,
I water it with an excess of liquors
Still he talks so much of the things I loved
It's just a bit frightened by the things I mourned
Still it wanted to reap my only longing1For the woman who was so poisoned by evil
1. I think "volonté" is used with the meaning of "desire" here, which might sound nice but is basically incorrect in French (as spoken in metropolitan France at least)