Daniel Balavoine
l enfant aux yeux d italie
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And the child with Italian eyes
Smiles at me and is wary
Tells me about all his troubles
To kill his neuralgia
I take him away born in April
I dedicate to her my visions, my style
My ambitions my fragile boredom
And the flowers in exile
While sleeping, she loses herself in a smile absent
And guesses the colors of the wind
She knows that I understand
And the child with the eyes of Italy
Discovers himself and pursues me
Abandon all his troubles
To the land of neuralgia
I'm taking him...
In the sky, his face with its possible features
Invents rains that 'interweave
In the heart of her frail fingers
I'm taking her...