À la plus haute branche [English translation]

At the clear fountain

Heading out for a walk

Hung from the highest branch

Among the chestnuts

It seems as if you're gently swaying

I catch sight of you and loose my footing

Even if nothing matters anymore

Have you at least found the key

That gives us our youth back

And our wild laughs of schoolchildren

This night

It's the automn wind

That will cradle you

Let it

Shielded away from men

Cradle you with me nearby

There is surely an unease

Like a brief hesitation

While placing chairs

For Christmas Eve dinner

You'll live in all of our silences

Through random conversations

I will get used to your absence

But I won't say your name anymore

This night

It's the automn wind

That will cradle you

Let it

Shielded away from men

Cradle you with me nearby

Hung from the highest branch

One day I will forgive you

Tell the Good Lord that it's Sunday

And that he can come get you