La Lune est morte [English translation]

(Chorus)

Cry, clowns, poets, and black cats

The moon is dead, the moon is dead

Cry, clowns, poets and black cats

The moon is dead tonight

A man walks across the floor

Of this old mirror of your dreams

And it's your heart that is breaking

The rope is around your neck

We will have to go farther

Beyond the millions of stars

In search of the one star

That will grant you your dream tomorrow

(Chorus)

Like a sunflower

We bottled the moon

And the children of the basket

Applauded as to a puppet show

A man walks across the floor

Of this old mirror of wonders

In my garden since the day before

The nightingale no longer sings

(Chorus)