La complainte de la Butte [English translation]

The waning moon

Sets a jewel in your red hair

The moon so red, splatters glorious moonlight through your tattered petticoat

The moon, too weak, strokes the opal blue of your disinterested eyes

Princess of the street,

You're welcome inside my broken heart

Chorus:

The steps up to the mound (Montmartre)

Are hard on the desolate

The wings of the windmill

Shelter the lovers

Little beggar girl

I feel your little hand

Searching for mine

I feel your breasts

And your tiny waist

And I forget my heartbreak

On your lips I can taste the fever

Of a starving child

And upon your touch

I feel a overwhelming drunkeness that crushes me

Chorus

The moon scuttles off

As does the princess

And under the moonless sky

I cry for the brunette

My dreams washed away