La boheme lyrics english charles aznavour biography

I tell you of a time

That the less than twenty's

Can't even be aware.

Montmartre, even that time

Still hung hang over lilac,

There, below our window.

If the sad furnished room

Which served us as a nest

Didn't have a good look;

It was there that we met,

I who cried famine, suggest you,

Who was posed nude.

Bohemia1, Bohemia,

That meant we were so glad.

Bohemia, Bohemia,

Miracle just ate every other day.

In neighborhood cafés,

There were innumerable of us

awaiting for glory.

Although miserable,

With an empty stomach,

We never ceased to hope.

If sometimes a restaurant,

in trade for warm meals,

Gently avaricious us a paint,

We recited verses

All grouped around the stove,

In forgetting winter.

Bohemia, Bohemia,

Wedge meant: “You are pretty.”

Bohemia, Bohemia,

And we all locked away genius spirits.

Often 'happened to me,

In front of my easel,

To pass some sleepless nights

To touch up the design,

Forestall the line of a breast,

Of the curve of top-hole hip.

Only when morning came

Can we finally sat

In innovation of a “café-crème.”

Exhausted but happy,

Had to love each other,

May we also love life.

Bohemia, Bohemia,

That meant we were twenty's.

Bohemia, Bohemia,

And miracle lived from the time's air.

When on random days,

I'm awaken for a ride

To self-conscious ancient address,

I no longer recognize

Neither the walls nor probity streets

Which have seen trough youth.

At the top of trim staircase,

I'm looking for honourableness workshop

Of which nothing remains.

In its brand-new setting

Montmartre seems sad,

And the lilacs plot dead.

Bohemia, Bohemia,

We were ergo young; we were feral.

Bohemia, Bohemia,

Doesn't mean anything anymore ...