La puce et le pianiste [English translation]

One day, on the piano

A flea chose to dwell.

She placed her backpack,

Her shoppings.

She did a lot of travelling,

A lot of jumping, a lot of stinging

And not to be visible,

She settled on the black

But suddenly, the light appeared.

The sounds struck her ear.

A hand walked over her.

Her anger had no equal.

She followed its progress

With eyes full of concentration

To try and climb

The hand that trampled her.

When finally, she did succeed,

Adjusted her sting

And started to sting the hand

While dancing a quadrille,

But, suddenly, the hand fidgeted

And her pace did accelerate

And the flea fully excited,

More beautifully, started to sting again.

Due to the pain and itch

The hand became quicker,

No longer following the score

Not having more any guide,

But in the room there was an applause

Without suspecting what have happened,

That thanks to an annoyed flea

Jazz have been born.