Hécatombe
Seulement français Francese e italiano

Hecatomb  
Au marché de Briv’-la-Gaillarde,
A propos de bottes d’oignons,
Quelques douzaines de gaillardes
Se crêpaient un jour le chignon.
A pied, à cheval, en voiture,
Les gendarmes, mal inspirés,
Vinrent pour tenter l’aventure
D’interrompre l’échauffouré’.

Or, sous tous les cieux sans vergogne,
C’est un usag’ bien établi,
Dès qu’il s’agit d’rosser les cognes
Tout l’ monde se réconcili’.
Ces furi’s, perdant tout’ mesure,
Se ruèrent sur les guignols,
Et donnèrent je vous l’assure,
Un spectacle assez croquignol.

En voyant ces braves pandores
Etre à deux doigts de succomber,
Moi, j’bichais car je les adore
Sous la forme de macchabé’s.
De la mansarde où je réside,
J’exitais les farouches bras
Des mégères gendarmicides,
En criant: "Hip, hip, hip, hourra!"

Frénétiqu’, l’un’ d’elles attache
Le vieux maréchal des logis,
Et lui fait crier: "Mort aux vaches!
Mort aux lois! vive l’anarchie!"
Une autre fourre avec rudesse
Le crâne d’un de ses lourdauds
Entre ses gigantesques fesses
Qu’elle serre comme un étau.

La plus grasse de ses femelles,
Ouvrant son corsag’ dilaté,
Matraque à grands coups de mamelles
Ceux qui passent à sa porté’.
Ils tombent, tombent, tombent, tombent,
Et, s’lon les avis compétents,
Il paraît que cett’ hécatombe
Fut la plus bell’ de tous les temps.

Jugeant enfin que leurs victimes
Avaient eu leur content de gnons,
Ces furi’s, comme outrage ultime,
En retournant à leurs oignons,
Ces furi’s à peine si j’ose
Le dire, tellement c’est bas,
Leur auraient mêm’ coupé les choses:
Par bonheur ils n’en avait pas!
Leur auraient mêm’ coupé les choses:
Par bonheur ils n’en avait pas!

At the Briva-la-Gaillarde market
For a bag of onions,
A few dozen bawdy women
One day were giving each other a good thrashing.
On foot, by horse and by car
Some ill advised cops
Arrived, to try
To break-up the fight.

Well, it is a time-honored tradition,
In all respectable places,
That to gang up against the cops
The whole world will reconcile.
Those raging women, they lost it all,
They lunged at the cops
And the show they put up
Was quite amazing, I assure you.

Seeing those brave constables
So close to being overwhelmed
I was jubilant, because I love them
When they are belly up.
From the attic where I live,
I cheered the wild arms
Of those cop destroyers
And I cried "hip hip hurray"!

One of them, in a frenzy,
Attacks the elderly sergeant
And makes him shout "Death to the cops,
Death to the Law, long live Anarchy!"
Another one shoves with great force
The skull of one of those blockheads
Between her gigantic buttocks
And squeezes him as in a vice.

The fattest of those women
Opens her stretched out corset
And unleashes great blows with her tits
Onto those within her reach.
And they fall, they fall, they fall, they fall,
And according to some competent comments
It seems that this hecatomb
Was the best of all times.

And when they saw that their victims
Had had enough trouble
Those raging women, as a last insult,
Returning to their onions,
Those raging women, I barely
Dare to say it, it’s so vile,
They would have chopped their things off,
But luckily they had none!
They would have chopped their things off,
But luckily they had none!