Le jour où tu voudras partir [English translation]

There won't be any trains left in the stations

the day you want to leave,

among children sleeping

in gardens and in beds.

There won't be any planes left in the air.

The city will be like a wasteland.

Nothing but children huddling together

to block your way.

Waiting for the fires and the noise of the city

to ebb,

you will moisten the brows of those you love

and who are bleeding,

among sleeping children

and birds fallen from their nests.

There won't be any flowers left on the tables.

The child will put his satchel down.

Hiding his face in his hands to cry,

he will hear you walking away.

Waiting for the fires and the noise of the city

to ebb,

you will moisten the brows of those you love

and who are bleeding,

among unknown children

wolves and lost dogs.

You're bound to remember one day

this city that once was yours,

with its children asleep

on the marble fountain rims.

Waiting for the fires and the noise of the city

to ebb,

you will moisten the brows of those you love

and who are bleeding,

among sleeping children

and birds fallen from their nests.

Among sleeping children

and birds fallen from their nests.