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It's a beautiful novel, it's a beautiful story
It's a romance for today
He was going home, up there towards the fog
She was going down into the noon, noon
They found themselves at the side of the road
On the holiday highway
It was undoubtedly a lucky day
They had the sky within reach of hand
A gift from providence
So why think about tomorrow
They hid in a large wheat field
Let themselves be carried by the currents
Told each other's stories their lives which were beginning
They were still only children, children
Who had found themselves at the side of the road
On the holiday highway
It was without doubt on a lucky day
Who plucked the sky from the palm of their hands
Like one plucks providence
Refusing to think about tomorrow
He was returning home, up there towards the fog
It was descending into the noon, the noon
They parted at the edge of the morning
On the holiday highway
The lucky day was over
They then each went their own way
Greeted providence
Waving to each other
He returned home, up there towards the fog
She went down there- bas dans le midi
It’s a beautiful novel, it’s a beautiful story
It’s a romance for today