La cinquième saison [English translation]

You who are hopeless

To live miseries

Of our four seasons

Stop your march

Bend down, pass the ark

Of this huge bridge

The fifth season

There is always an angel

A spare angel

That will give you a shaft

Take his hand and reach

With him to the star

To your resurrection

Your fifth season

Soldier of the big wars

On these strange lands

From the bottom of the horizon

One day the intelligence

Will put you on vacation

Will rust your canons

The fifth season

Let the music be

Liturgic organs

To the accordion

Let the musique be

Chopin is clicking

Brahms with the bandoneon

The fifth season

• Artist:Gilbert Bécaud