A little cantata,
From my fingertips,
Obsessive and clumsy
Goes up to you.
A little cantata
Like the one we used to play.
Alone, I play it clumsily,
Si mi la ré sol do fa
This little cantata,
Fa sol do fa,
Was not of the clumsy type
When you played it.
The notes ran so easily,
Merry, in your fingertips.
But I, there, was so clumsy,
Si mi la ré sol do fa.
Yet, you have gone, so frail,
To the beyond,
And I remain , awkward,
Fa sol do fa.
I think of you, all smiles,
Sitting before this piano,
Saying : '' right, you play, I sing''
Sing it, do sing it for me ''.
Si mi la ré si mi la ré si sol do fa
Si mi la ré si mi la ré si sol do fa.
O my dear Friend
O sweetheart
O you, little sweet of mine ,
My god, how this cantata
Is difficult without you !
A short little prayer, la la la,
With my Heart to make it
And my ten fingers.
A short little prayer
But no sign of the cross,
What an offense to the Father,
He will sure forgive me that.
Si mi la ré si mi la ré si sol do fa
Si mi la ré si mi la ré si sol do fa.
The Angels with their trumpets
Will play it, play it for you,
This little cantata
That we used to play,
The Angels with their trumpets
Will play it, play it for you
This little cantata
That goes up to you,
This little cantata
That goes up to you,
Si mi la ré si mi la ré si sol do fa