Je hais les dimanches [English translation]

All the days of the week

Are empty and sound hollow

But even worse than the week

Is the prententious sunday

That would like to look rosy

The sunday would like to appear

Like a day full of happiness

I hate sundays

I hate sundays

The streets are crowded

Millions of passers-by

This crowd that rolls along

With an indifferent facial expression

This crowd that is marching on

Like it's going to a funeral

The funeral of sunday

That has died long ago

I hate sundays

I hate sundays

You work all week long and also on sunday

Maybe it's because of this that I'm prejudiced

Honey, if only you were by my side

I would be ready to love

Everything that I do not love

The sundays in springtime

The sun is casting its rays on everything

Which while they're shining erase

The sorrows of yesterday

Sunday filled with blue skies

And the laughter of children

From promenades of couples in love

To timid vows

And the flowers in the branches

And the flowers in the branches

And in the middle of the affray

People who are not in a hurry

Will cross the streets

We will slip through

The two of us, holding hands

Without wanting to know

What will happen tomorrow

Only possesing as only hope

Other sundays

Other sundays

And all the honest people

That one calls well adjusted

And those that are not

And who want one to believe they are

And who go to church by habit

Who change their shirts

And put on a nice suit

Those who sleep for twenty hours

Because nothing stops them from doing so

Those who get up early

To go fishing

Those for who it's the day

To go to the cemetery

And those who make love

Bcause they have nothing else to do

Are jealous of our happiness

How I envy them for having sundays

For believing in sundays

For loving sundays

When I hate sundays

• Artist:Charles Aznavour