Ce sacré piano [English translation]

This good old piano

Placed in a corner

Wants to set free

His overwhelming voice

But has got stuck

In his strings

And his old keys

Which no finger touches

Longing for the hands

This good old piano

Who seems asleep

Forever

In a coffin

Would like his

Black and white keys

To be touched

But nobody looks at

His old body

Once in a while

When I feel down

I go slowly

To console his pain

And while dreaming

Of our bygone happiness

We both lament for the old days

This good old piano

Sticks to my skin

But the more my fingers run

The less I can set myself free

Of this old love

Which is losing its balance

And is counting how many days

Are left for me to live

Restlessly

This good old piano

Is the only friend that I have

He knows how to distract me

Without great deal of fuss

And it helps me to overcome

All the barriers

Thanks to the memories

Placed on the earth

Defining life

This good old piano

Waits day and night

Upright in a corner

For me to touch him

Like a poor dog

Pulling his leash

To go to his owner

Who leaves him

For other loves

And when I put

My fingers on his keys

As soon as on him I feel

My hands lying down

The past is reborn

At the back of his mouth

Conjuring our old days

This good old piano

When he talks too much

Often puts again

Things in my memory

And stirs the time

And makes up the stories

Sometimes so many

That I part from

My old piano

• Artist:Charles Aznavour