Mistral gagnant [English translation]

Sat 'n a pew, five minutes wi' you, m' wee pal

An' watching folk, if any pass

To speak to you, of good times gone, or come back

Twixt the harp-o'-my-hand your li'l palm

Something worse to eat to puff-up the errant pigeons

To deal them kicks with the feet the pretence

And to hear your laughter, which deciphers the walls

And knows, above all, to catch where I fall

Telling you a bit, 'bout when I was littler

Sherbet Fountains; sucked under the nose of shopkeepers

Pick-'n'-mix-Polo-Mints-'n'-Penny-Chews

And that's why you lose

Fat in the rain, five minutes wi' you, m' wee kid

An' watching life, such as it is

To tell all the Earth o' you in popping you its eyes

T' speak t' you o' your mammy a bit 'bout that size

And stamp in the puddles t' make them spill

T' wreck our shoes and to get our kill

And to hear your laughter like one hears the sea

T' stop it; t' share that gob's option with me

To tell you of especially the Skull-Crushers and the Chocolate-Eclairs

And the true Soor-Plumes cutting our hair

And taunting each too-ooth

And that's why you lose

Sat 'n a pew, five minutes wi' you, m' wee friend

An' watching the sun as it sets

To speak to you of good times spent and I don't fuss

To speak of the meddlers; it's not for us

As if I am bulk and ballast its only your eyes

Since they have taken to happening twice

To hear your laughter take off, for the sky's heard

Taken up, taking after the cries of the birds

To tell you finally life must be loved

And to love it the same as if time is the killer

And it carries off the laughter of children

And that's why you lose

And that's why you lose