Grand Corps Malade
Nos mots lyrics with English translation
- Language
- French
- Level
- Intermediate
- Genre
- Pop
- Length
- 2:30
Quand le silence hurle,
When silence screams,
se fait assourdissant
it becomes deafening
Que des sons minuscules,
As tiny sounds,
se font cris de géants
turn into giant cries
Nos mots sont des compas,
Our words are compasses,
nous guident sur l'océan
guiding us across the ocean
Nos mots comme continents
Our words like continents
Il nous restera ça
That's what we'll have left
Quand les nuages filent,
When the clouds pass by,
sans qu'on puisse les toucher
unable for us to touch them
Dans le bleu tendres iles
In the tender blue islands
Impossible d'accoster
Impossible to dock
Nos mots sont des trois mats,
Our words are tall ships,
naviguent dans ces nuées
sailing through these clouds
Nos mots comme nos voiliers
Our words like our sailboats
Il nous restera ça, il nous restera ça
We'll have that, we'll have that
Et quand le ciel pleure,
And when the sky weeps,
se grise de sanglots
drunk on sobs
Que les sons, les couleurs,
As sounds, colors,
se prennent dans les rouleaux
get caught in the swells
Nos mots à bouts de bras,
Our words at arm's length,
sont nos armes, nos flambeaux
are our weapons, our torches,
Nos mots comme drapeaux
Our words like flags,
Il nous restera ça
This is what we'll have left,
Quand les portes sont fermées
When the doors are closed,
que l'on reste au-dehors
and we remain outside,
Quand on a beau frapper
When we knock in vain,
de nos mains, de nos corps
with our hands, with our bodies,
Nos mots resteront là, gravés dans le décor
Our words will stay here, engraved in the scene,
Nos mots comme trésor
Our words like treasure.
Il nous restera ça
We’ll have this left
Quand mes lèvres sont scellées,
When my lips are sealed,
Que je ne sais que dire
That I don’t know what to say
Quand je ne sais que pleurer,
When I only know how to cry,
Quand je voudrais sourire
When I want to smile
Mes mots glissent tous bas, pour éviter le pire
My words slide softly, to avoid the worst
Mes mots comme des soupirs
My words like sighs
il me restera ça
I’ll have this left
Quand on voudrait fixer
When we want to seize
chaque souvenir chaque nuit,
Every memory every night,
pour ne rien oublier,
to forget nothing,
de chaque sensation
of every sensation
Les mots sont nos combats
Words are our battles
Les mots sont, l'émotion
Words are, the emotion
Nos mots comme chansons.
Our words like songs.
Il nous restera ça
This is what we'll have left
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Key vocabulary
- bas
- lowA1
- bleu
- blueA1
- bouts
- endsA1
- sourire
- smileA1
- géants
- giantsB1
- hurle
- yellsB1
- tendres
- tenderB1
- fait
- actA1
- assourdissant
- deafeningC2
- cris
- shoutsA1
About this song
Grand Corps Malade is a French rapper and urban poet, the alias of Fabien Marsaud. He is known for autobiographical slam-influenced rap and for stage performances incorporating a crutch, with early albums such as Midi 20 addressing racism, poverty, and isolation in the Paris suburbs.