Le jour où tu voudras partir [English translation]

There will be no more trains in the stations

on this day when you want to leave.

Among slumbering children

in gardens, in beds.

There will be no more planes in the air.

The city will be like a desert.

Nothing but children huddled together

to hold you back.

Waiting for the fires and noises of the city

to ebb,

you will shed water on the foreheads of the ones you love

and who are bleeding,

among sleeping children

and birds fallen from their nest.

There will be no more flowers on the tables.

The child will put down his schoolbag,

Head in hands, crying

as he hears you walking away.

Waiting for the fires and noises of the city

to ebb,

you will shed water on the foreheads of the ones you love

and who are bleeding,

among unknown children

and forsaken wolves and dogs.

You are bound to remember one day

this city that was once yours,

with its children slumbering

on the marble of the fountains.

Waiting for the fires and noises of the city

to ebb,

you will shed water on the foreheads of the ones you love

and who are bleeding,

among sleeping children

and birds fallen from their nest.

Among sleeping children

and birds fallen from their nest.