They pierced the night
With a flash of silver sequins
They are going to kill the boredom
For a night in the head of the people.
Dancing on a thread, walking on their hands
They are going to do tricks risking their necks 1
The fairground folk...
Music at full blast,
A clever little monkey
Who chews on a nut and dreams
On the shoulder of an old musician
Who, himself, dreams of nothing
They pierced the night
With a great laughter intermingled with tears
They have killed the boredom
By the echo of their own pain
They have taken the money in the palm of their hands
They have packed their bags and taken to the road again
The fairground folk...
Their gestures of happy children
And their marvellous clothes
Are forever engraved in the eyes
Of the onlookers of a sleepy village
Who are going to dream tonight...
Going to dream tonight
Of a flash of silver sequins
Which comes to kill the boredom
In the heart and the head of the people
But the shadow closes in on the path
And god only knows where they will be tomorrow
The fairground folk
Who leave in the night...
1. 'se briser les reins' - at the risk of breaking their backs. Risking their necks seems a suitable English equivalent.