Les Murs de Poussiere - Francis Cabrel
Francis Cabrel was born on November 23, 1953, Agen-France; he is a famous French rock singer and composer. He was inspired by Bob Dilyan’s music when he was a teenager so he started to write his own song and played the guitar. Since 1974, he took part of several music contests and he won one that was organized by Sud Radio. In 1989, Cabrel recorded his first album “Sarbacane” and he soon won popularity among rock lovers in France. His cong Les Murs De Poussiere is his most famous song and the following table has its lyric both French and English in order to practice one’s French pronunciation.
Rock Music in French
Les Murs de PoussiereIl rêvait d'une ville étrangèreUne ville de filles et de jeux Il voulait vivre d'autres manières Dans un autre milieu Il rêvait sur son chemin de pierres "Je partirai demain, si je veux J'ai la force qu'il faut pour le faire Et j'irai trouver mieux" Il voulait trouver mieux Que son lopin de terre Que son vieil arbre tordu au milieu Trouver mieux que la douce lumière du soir Près du feu Qui réchauffait son père Et la troupe entière de ses aïeux Le soleil sur les murs de poussière Il voulait trouver mieux... Il a fait tout le tour de la terre Il a même demandé à Dieu Il a fait tout l'amour de la terre Il n'a pas trouvé mieux Il a croisé les rois de naguère Tout drapés de diamants et de feu Mais dans les châteaux des rois de naguère Il n'a pas trouvé mieux... Il n'a pas trouvé mieux Que son lopin de terre Que son vieil arbre tordu au milieu Trouver mieux que la douce lumière du soir Près du feu Qui réchauffait son père Et la troupe entière de ses aïeux Le soleil sur les murs de poussière Il n'a pas trouvé mieux... Il a dit "Je retourne en arrière Je n'ai pas trouvé ce que je veux" Il a dit "Je retourne en arrière" Il s'est brûlé les yeux Il s'est brûlé les yeux Sur son lopin de terre Sur son vieil arbre tordu au milieu Aux reflets de la douce lumière du soir Près du feu Qui réchauffait son père Et la troupe entière de ses aïeux Au soleil sur les murs de poussière Il s'est brûlé les yeux (x3) Francis Cabrel |
The Walls of DustHe dreamed of a foreign cityA city of girls and games He wanted to live other ways In another culture He dreamed on his stone road "I will leave tomorrow, if I want I have the strength it takes to do it And I will go find better" He wanted to find better Than his own patch of land Than his old lop-sided tree in the middle Find better than the soft evening light Near the fire Warming his father And his forefathers entire troop The sun on the walls of dust He wanted to find better... He went around the world He even asked God He made all the love in the wield He didn't find better He came across the kings of old All covered in diamonds and fire But in castles of the kings of old He didn't find better... He didn't find better Than his own patch of land Than his old lop-sided tree in the middle Find better than the soft evening light Near the fire Warming his father And his forefathers entire troop The sun on the walls of dust He didn't to find better... He said "I'm going back I didn't find what I want" He said "I'm going back" He burned his eyes He burned his eyes On his own patch of land On his old lop-sided tree in the middle In the soft evening light's gleam Near the fire Warming his father And his forefathers entire troop In the sun on the walls of dust He burned his eyes (x3) Francis Cabrel |
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