Que reste-t-il de nos amours ? [English translation]

What is left of our love

What is left of these beautiful days

A photograph, an old photgraph of my youth

What's left of our love letters

Of the months of april, the dates

A memory that haunts me constantly

Happiness withered away, hair blowing in the wind

Stolen kisses, uneasy dreams

What is left of all that?

Tell me

A small town, an old bell tower

A scenery so well hidden

And in a cloud the beloved face

Of my past

• Artist:Charles Trenet