Le déserteur [English translation]

Mister President

I’m writing you a letter

That perhaps you will read

If you have the time

I just received

My call-up papers

To go to war

Before Wednesday evening

Mister President

I don’t want to do it

I am not on Earth

To kill some poor people

It’s not to make you angry

I have to tell you

I made up my mind

I’m going to desert

Since I was born

I saw my father die

I saw my brothers leave

And my children cry

My mother suffered so much

That she is in her grave

And doesn’t care about bombs

And doesn’t care about worms

When I was a prisoner

They stole my wife

They stole my soul

And all my past that was dear to me

Tomorrow early in the morning

I’ll shut my door

In the face of the dead years

I will take to the road

I will beg for my living

On the roads of France

From Brittany to Provence

And I will say to people:

“Refuse to obey

Refuse to do it

Don’t go to war

Refuse to leave”

If we have to give our blood

Go and give yours

You are a hypocrite

Mister President

If you come after me

Inform your policemen

That I won’t have any weapons

And that they’ll be free to shoot.

• Artist:Boris Vian