La langue de chez nous [English translation]

That's a beautiful language with magnificent words

That carries its history through its accents

Where we feel the music and the herbs' perfumes

The goat cheese and the wheat bread

And from the Mount Saint-Michel to Contrescarpe

Listening to the people from there talk

It looks like the wind got stick in a harp

And that it kept all the harmonies

In this beautiful language with Provence's colors

Where the things' flavour is already in the words

The party starts by talking

And we drink the words ad well as water

The voices ressemble the rivers' flows

They answer to the meanders, the wind in the reeds

Sometimes even to the torrents carrying the thunder along

Polishing the rocks beside the rivers

It's a beautiful language on the other side of the world

A bubble of France in the north of a continent

Set in a vise but still so fruitful

Locked in the ice on top of a volcano

She threw bridges over the Atlantic

She left her nest for another soil

And like a swallow in the spring of musics

She comes back to sing her sorrows and her hopes

Telling us that over there in this snow country

She faces winds blowing from everywhere,

To impose her words even in the schools

So that the language from home is still spoken

It's a beautiful language for the ones who know how to defend it

She offers treasures of infinite wealth

Words that were lacking to understand one another

And the strength needed to live in harmony

And from Orleans' island to Contrescarpe

And listening to the people from this country singing

It seems like the wind got stuck in a harp

And it wrote an entire symphony

And from Orleans' island to Contrescarpe

And listening to the people from this country singing

It seems like the wind got stuck in a harp

And it wrote an entire symphony