La vue du sang [English translation]

I am always looking for chills on my skin

My eyes close

and my voice dies1 with my brain

Adrenaline and its palpitations

Danger is naïve, it's coming in fast

I'm looking for fear because I'm afraid of living

Too much inaction

But yet, and yet, I can't stand the sight of blood anymore

Too often, too often I regret

Me, a child of the desert who wanted to make his father proud

It's with a smile and tears of joy

that I told him that his son had become a soldier

He took me in his arms

for the first time, my mother cried too,

Her eyes, clawed2 by the cold of the room,

were moved by seeing the man she loved, so

she was afraid, without wanting to upset me,

she didn't stop repeating

that wanting to serve one's country was just bullshit.

I am always looking for chills on my skin

My eyes close

and my voice dies with my brain

Adrenaline and its palpitations

Danger is naïve, it's coming in fast

I'm looking for fear because I'm afraid of living

Too much inaction

But yet, and yet, I can't stand the sight of blood anymore

Too often, too often I regret

Six in the morning, I made my bed as fast as possible

I hallucinate, no time to eat that I already run in the forest3

A bag of who knows how many kilos on my back

All I think about is deserting,

I can't take it anymore, I feel guilty for not listening to myself

I loved playing the guitar

calm at my home, but no, I'm here

I'm out of a month in the dungeon

because I lost my soul one night on guard

Sad, completely depressed, I delivered myself to my father

with hope that he would save me, but no

I am always looking for chills on my skin

My eyes close

and my voice dies with my brain

Adrenaline and its palpitations

Danger is naïve, it's coming in fast

I'm looking for fear because I'm afraid of living

Too much inaction

But yet, and yet, I can't stand the sight of blood anymore

Too often, too often I regret

Since then, I call my mother in Mali,

who admits to me, her throat dry, that she follows the news

So as usual, my parents don't care

But anyway, they check in on me

With my rather brief news

because she doesn't know what goes on in my head

Even if I believe she suspects

You know, maternal instincts

That morning in Timbuktu, a city on the river Niger,

Rebels fired hundreds and hundreds of bullets

I was afraid, then after a while I left elsewhere

I had ringing ears after a grenade had exploded

and then I escorted a little family home

The aunt was touched4 in the lower back

She won't walk anymore, I hate her, I feel the need to return

to read the travels of Sylvain Tesson5

Hang out in the bars of Orleans and rediscover my home

near the Loire6, every night without exception

Rediscover my home, near the Loire

every night without exception

I am always looking for chills on my skin

My eyes close

and my voice dies with my brain

Adrenaline and its palpitations

Danger is naïve, it's coming in fast

I'm looking for fear because I'm afraid of living

Too much inaction

But yet, and yet, I can't stand the sight of blood anymore

Too often, too often I regret

1. lit. "turns off" or "extinguishes"2. I'm not really sure how to translate this, or if this is a figure of speech3. honestly not really sure how "que" functions in this sentence4. I assume this means "shot" in this context?5. a French traveler and author6. a river in France

• Artist:Georgio
• Album:Héra