Les bruits de Paris [English translation]

Each night I come home so late

That on my way, all the sweepers,

The dark shapes change colour

And in the pink sky, we understand

That something big is going on.

When I hear, in my neighbourhood,

The milkman's truck,

I tell myself: "It's 7:15

I must get up without delay."

When I hear the baker

Who carries her bread, lightly,

I tell myself: "It's 7:30

And I'm still in bed."

Outside it is springtime.

People are happy.