La p'tite Bill [English translation]

Little Bill, she is sick

She needs a promenade

With someone who would be her lover,

One or two hours.

Little Bill, time is running out.

She needs a caress,

Gentle fingers, soft fingers, over and under.

Bill, my Bill, you are like everyone

When it flows out of your eyes, it falls

But that's not confetti, this rain.

She has read too much literature, the heart's pen, the scratches,

The little revolver in laces, the blows with a parasol.

She has waited, without laugh, for the blue ribbons, the sighs,

Only those things that merely exist in the movies.

Bill, my Bill, you are like everyone

When it flows out of your eyes, it falls

But that's not confetti, this rain.

Little Bil is in a bad mood

She says that she is alone all the time

But everyone lives apart from everyone.

In vain she is gardening at her 24th floor,

Geranium and begonia, she has no success.

It is an old, filthy illness

The hell of a lack of love that hollows out.

In our cities, in the countryside, it spreads (2 times)

Bill, my Bill, you are like everyone

When it flows out of your eyes, it falls.