Jacques Brel "La Parlote" letra

Traducción al:en

La Parlote

C’est elle qui remplit d’espoirLes promenades, les salons de théC’est elle qui raconte l’histoireQuand elle ne l’a pas inventéeC’est la parlote, la parloteC’est elle qui sort toutes les nuitsEt ne s’apaise qu’au petit jourPour s’éveiller après l’amourEntre deux amants éblouisLa parlote, la parlote

C’est là qu’on dit qu’on a dit ouiC’est là qu’on dit qu’on a dit nonC’est le support de l’assuranceEt le premier apéritif de FranceLa parlote, la parloteLa parlote, la parlote

Marchant sur la pointe des lèvresMoitié fakir et moitié vandaleD’un faussaire elle fait un orfèvreD’un fifrelin elle fait un scandaleLa parlote, la parlote

C’est elle qui attire la candeurDans les filets d’une promenadeMais c’est par elle que l’amour en fleursSouvent se meurt dans les saladesLa parlote, la parlote

Par elle j’ai changé le mondeJ’ai même fait battre tambourPour charger une PompadourPas même belle, pas même blondeLa parlote, la parloteLa parlote, la parlote

C’est au bistrot qu’elle rend ses sentencesEt nous rassure en nous assurantQue ceux qu’on aime n’ont pas eu de chanceQue ceux qu’on n’aime pas en ont tellementLa parlote, la parloteLa parlote, la parlote

Si c’est elle qui sèche les yeuxSi c’est elle qui sèche les pleursC’est elle qui dessèche les vieuxC’est elle qui dessèche les cœursGna gna gna gna gna gnaGna gna gna gna gna gna

C’est elle qui vraiment s’installeQuand on n’a plus rien à se direC’est l’épitaphe, c’est la pierre tombaleDes amours qu´on a laissé mourirLa parlote, la parloteLa parlote, la parlote

The small talk

It's her who fills with hope The strolls, the tea houses It's her who tells the story When she didn't make it up first It's the small talk, the small talk It's her who goes out every night And only rests at dawn To wake up after making love Between two bedazzled lovers The small talk, the small talk

That's here we say that we said yes That's here we say that we said no It is the support of assurance And the first drink 1 of France The small talk, the small talk The small talk, the small talk

Walking tippy-lipped Half fakir and half vandal Of a forger she makes a goldsmith Of a gossip 2 she makes a scandal The small talk, the small talk

It's her who lures candor In the nets of a stroll But it's by her that love in bloom Often dies into the salads3 The small talk, the small talk

By her, I changed the world I even had the drums beat To charge a Pompadour4 Not even pretty, not even blonde The small talk, the small talk The small talk, the small talk

It's at the pub that she delivers her sentences And reassures us by assuring That the one we love had no luck That the one we hate had so much The small talk, the small talk The small talk, the small talk

If it's her who dries the eyes If it's her who dries the tears It's her who withers the old It's her who withers the hearts Gna gna gna gna gna gna Gna gna gna gna gna gna

It's her who truly moves in When we have nothing to say anymore It's the epitaph, it's the head stone Of the loves that were left to die The small talk, the small talk The small talk, the small talk

Aquí se puede encontrar la letra de la canción La Parlote de Jacques Brel. O la letra del poema La Parlote. Jacques Brel La Parlote texto.