Cézanne peint [English translation]

Quiet the crickets

On still branches

The trees are casting rays

And subtle shadows

Quiet in the house

Quiet on the hill

These scents one gets a whiff of

T'is the season's smell

But here comes the man

Under his straw hat

Stains on his coat

And (sporting) an unrully beard

Cézanne's painting

He lets the magic flow from his hands

Cézanne's painting

He lights up the world for our blind eyes

If hapyness exists

It's an artist's trial (or canvas)

Cézanne knows it well

Vibrate the light

Sing the colors

He pours his life in it

His heart's thud

And like a boat

Carried by its sail

Slowly his brush

Glides on the canvas

And here's the man

Who meets with his eyes

A brief instant

Gods eyes