Temps de calabruix [English translation]

In my home's garden

Huge hail rocks have fallen down

And I, who was blossoming,

Have my entire back soaked from them.

The bees are waiting,

My bum is restless at home;

And I, who wanted to sing,

See that my song has been drowned.

The pear tree was laughing already,

But now its smile has been censored.

And I, who was entering April

Have my body all frozen up from March!

The red anemone flowers

And the white daisies...

And I, who look all green,

Am all blossomed with poor hopes.

The month of transformations

Is April and now, we're in March,

And I cannot wait:

My songs are becoming mouldy!

My songs are becoming mouldy

In this time of hailstorms

And now, they say that the government

Is preparing elections...

It is preparing elections

And everything will be more expensive,

And they shall cancel those celebrations

That we still had to sing in!