Folle, folle, follement heureuse [English translation]

You have forced me into battle.

Your heart is merciless with my heart.

And knowing my weaknesses and my flaws,

you arrange my life.

You refuse to admit it when someone resists you,

and you do not know that you

are, I think, the most selfish being

that I have never known.

But it is strange—

suddenly you change

and act like an angel

and, at that moment,

I feel mad, mad, madly happy,

snuggled in your arms.

I am not one of those quiet women

who sit by the fire

while their lovers cavort in the city—

close to the heart and far from the eyes.

Who, without problem,

remain calm, even when

deprived of the one they love.

I do not understand them—

me—I'm mad, mad, madly worried

when you are not here.

I accept it all, I accept it all—

my life, for me, and what you do with it.

Love that is untroubled, I admit it, annoys me;

with you, being at war pleases me.

I hate you, then I love you—

yes, I love you and I hate you—

and then I love you.

In the end, no matter what,

I feel mad, mad, madly happy,

snuggled in your arms.

(repeat last stanza three times until fade)

• Artist:Mireille Mathieu
• Album:Le vent de la nuit (1974)