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| Home → Recorded Songs → 1960 → Le père Noel et la petite fille |
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| Le père Noel et la petite fille | Santa Claus and the little girl | ||
| Avec sa hotte sur le dos, Avec sa hotte sur le dos, Il s’en venait d’Eldorado, Il s’en venait d’Eldorado, Il avait une barbe blanche, Il avait nom «Papa Gâteau», Il a mis du pain sur ta planche, Il a mis les mains sur tes hanches. Il t’a prom’né’ dans un landeau, Il t’a prom’né’ dans un landeau, En route pour la vi’ d’chàteau, En route pour la vi’ d’chàteau, La belle vi’ doré’ sur tranche, Il te l’offrit sur un plateau. Il a mis du grain dans ta grange, Il a mis les mains sur tes hanches. Toi qui n’avais rien sur le dos, Toi qui n’avais rien sur le dos, Il t’a couverte de manteaux, Il t’a couverte de manteaux, Il t’a vêtu’ comme un dimanche, Tu n’auras pas froid de sitôt. Il a mis l’hermine à ta hanche, Il a mis les mains sur tes hanches. Tous les camé’s, tous les émaux, Tous les camé’s, tous les émaux, Il les fit pendre à tes rameaux, Il les fit pendre à tes rameaux, Il fit rouler en avalanches Perle’ et rubis dans tes sabots. Il a mis de l’or à ta branche, Il a mis les mains sur tes hanches. Tire la bell’, tir’ le rideau, Tire la bell’, tir’ le rideau, Sur tes misères de tantôt, Sur tes misères de tantôt, Et qu’au-dehors il pleuve, il vente, Le mauvais temps n’est plus ton lot, Le joli temps des coudé’s franches… On a mis les mains sur tes hanches. |
With his basket on his back, With his basket on his back, He was coming from the Eldorado, He was coming from the Eldorado, He had a white beard, He was called «Sweet Daddy», He put some bread on your table, He put his hands on your hips. He took you on a royal carriage, He took you on a royal carriage, On the way to life in the castle, On the way to life in the castle, A good life surrounded by gold, He offered it to you on a tray. He put some grain in your barn, He put his hands on your hips. You who had nothing on your shoulders, You who had nothing on your shoulders, He covered you with coats, He covered you with coats, He dressed you up like for a Sunday, You won’t be cold for sometime. He put the ermine on your hip, He put his hands on your hips. All the cameos, all the enamels, All the cameos, all the enamels, He made them hanging from your branches, He made them hanging from your branches, He made roll down as an avalanche Pearls and rubies in your clogs. He put some gold on your body, He put his hands on your hips. Close, my beauty, close the curtain, Close, my beauty, close the curtain, On your past miseries, On your past miseries, And if outside it is raining and blowing wind, Bad weather is no longer your problem, The nice weather of freedom… They put the hands on your hips. |