Les enfants de la guerre [English translation]

Children of war

Aren't really children

They are as old as stone

Of iron and blood

By the tears of mothers

They had their eyes opened

By days without mystery

And a world on fire

Children of war

Aren't really children

They've known the earth

On fire and bloody

They've had pipe dreams

To sharpen their teeth

And have taken cemeteries

As children's play parks

These children of the storm

And of uncertain days

Who had faces

Indented with hunger

Who have aged before their time

And grown up without help

Without touching the heritage

That love must have left them

Children of war

Aren't really children

They've seen anger

Smothering their songs

They've learnt to shut up

And to tighten their fists

When lying voices

Dictate their destinies.

Children of war

Aren't really children

They have a proud look

And their eyes are too big

They've seen misery

Covering over their tracks

And foreign hands

Slitting the throats of their springs

These children without a childhood

Without youth and without joy

Who shivered helplessly

With sorrow and cold

Who defied suffering

And silenced their turmoil

But lived in hope

Are like you and me

Lovers of misery

Unhappy lovers

To singular loves

To ever-changing dreams

Who look for the light

But fear it still

Because

The lovers of the war

Are still children.