Les hommes disent peu [English translation]

The men say little

And I do the same as them

I use platitudes

Of vaporous subjects

To jumble the soul

Who lies in my eyes

I dress up the child

I lock sir away.

The men say little

And I do the same

Of a gloomy atmosphere

I wait for my awakening

I teach

My heart

The art of running away

The men say little

Of their brick heart

Without strength they get bogged down

During those alcoholic nights

Because of insignificance.

Because of infinite blues

In their game of eloquence

We see the game too well.

I teach

My heart

The art of lying

I teach

To men

The art of running away

I am a man and it benefits me

And it makes me bad and even makes me lie

And I do my best

And I do my worst

And I die the best

And I die the worst

I teach

My heart

The art of lying

I teach

My fears

The art of dying