There was every day
There was the heckling of the crossroads
And then the people who bought their newspapers
And then all those who took the subway,
There was the parade of the boulevards
The tidbits of the old chatty chatty
And looking in the dirty water of the streams
The April sky that made the big back.
There was a small man
Who was going away at short notice.
He looked very frugal,
The little man...
With his old grated jacket
But he had a mistress
That cost him a lot of money.
She sold him her beautiful youth
And caresses
Let the little man pay cash...
There was his Saturday night life.
There was the staircase, the corridor.
There was the door all the way
And then two arms around his neck
There were flowers on the piano.
There was the whiteness of the curtain
And then hours on the big blue divan
And then all that made him happy.
There was the door closed
With a word passed below,
Pretty paper bordered with roses
To say things
Let's understand at first
A little man who is abandoned
Can do nothing but go away.
In the cold street where everything resonates
And without anyone
All alone, to cry better.
There was everyday life
Who continued his fanfare forever.
There were the waltzes of the phonos
Which burst out of the bistros.
There was a boy singing.
There was a girl launging
And then the round of wonderful love
And the little man
Who wept in the middle...