Que les moins de vingt ans ne peuvent pas connaître
Montmartre en ce temps-là accrochait ses lilas
Jusque sous nos fenêtres et si l'humble garni
Qui nous servait de nid ne payait pas de mine
C'est là qu'on s'est connu
Moi qui criait famine et toi qui posais nue
La bohème, la bohème. Ça voulait dire on est heureux
La bohème, la bohème. Nous ne mangions qu'un jour sur deux
Dans les cafés voisins
Nous étions quelques-uns
Qui attendions la gloire et bien que miséreux
Avec le ventre creux
Nous ne cessions d'y croire et quand quelque bistro
Contre un bon repas chaud
Nous prenait une toile, nous récitions des vers
Groupés autour du poêle en oubliant l'hiver
La bohème, la bohème. Ça voulait dire tu es jolie
La bohème, la bohème et nous avions tous du génie
Souvent il m'arrivait
Devant mon chevalet
De passer des nuits blanches
Retouchant le dessin
De la ligne d'un sein
Du galbe d'une hanche et ce n'est qu'au matin
Qu'on s'asseyait enfin
Devant un café-crème
Epuisés mais ravis
Fallait-il que l'on s'aime et qu'on aime la vie
La bohème, la bohème. Ça voulait dire on a vingt ans
La bohème, la bohème et nous vivions de l'air du temps
Quand au hasard des jours
Je m'en vais faire un tour
A mon ancienne adresse
Je ne reconnais plus
Ni les murs, ni les rues
Qui ont vu ma jeunesse
En haut d'un escalier
Je cherche l'atelier
Dont plus rien ne subsiste
Dans son nouveau décor
Montmartre semble triste et les lilas sont morts
La bohème, la bohème. On était jeunes, on était fous
La bohème, la bohème. Ça ne veut plus rien dire du tout
English translation of original song:
I am telling you about a time
That people under twenty years old would not know.
Montmartre at the time was hanging its lilacs
Up under our windows, and even if our modest furnished (room)
That we used as a nest did not look great,
This is where we met,
Me starving and you posing nude.
La boheme, la boheme, it meant we are happy.
La boheme, la boheme, we only ate every other day.
In the coffee shops nearby
We were a few
Waiting for glory, and although poor
With our empty bellies
We would not stop believing, and when some bistro
For a nice warm meal
Would take a painting, we recited verses,
Gathered around the stove while forgetting the winter.
La boheme, la boheme, it meant you are pretty.
La boheme, la boheme, and we were all talented.
Often I would,
In front of my easel,
Spend sleepless nights
Altering the drawing,
Of the line of a breast,
Of the curve of a hip, and only in the morning,
We would finally sit,
In front of a coffee with milk,
Exhausted but delighted.
We must have loved each other and loved life.
La boheme, la boheme, it meant we are twenty years old.
La boheme, la boheme, we lived from the air of the time [basically feeding ourselves from the floating trend, the present time].
When on a random day
I go for a walk
To my old address
I no longer recognize
Neither the walls, nor the streets
That witnessed my youth.
At the top of a stairway,
I look for the studio
Of which nothing remains.
In its new setting,
Montmartre seems sad and the lilacs are dead.
La boheme, la boheme. We were young, we were foolish.
La boheme, la boheme. It doesn't mean anything anymore.
Engleska verzija:
Let me tell of a time
when the world was in rhyme
with the sound of our laughter
Montmartre hanged with flowers
for far-forgotten hours of hunger and of love
Unaware in our youth of the sobering truth
of the years that came after
We laughed at common men
for we were heroes then
and heaven smiled above
La boheme, la boheme
Poor hungry you, poor hungry me
La boheme, la boheme
See the old world that could not see
All those innocent hearts
who imagined their arts
could be casually mastered
I miss them every one
for the sands of time have run away for each and all
For it seems that our schemes were impossible dreams
that could never have lasted
for when we woke at last the big parade had passed
and spring had gone its way
La boheme, la boheme
Someone to care, someone to mind
La boheme, la boheme
We were in love and love is blind
Now and then I return
and the memories burn with a bittersweet aching
I climb the same old stairs
but no-one longer cares
and there's no-one to greet
in the streets where we walked
and the bars where we talked
of a world we were making
I stand upon that hill until I drink my fill
then leave it all behind
La boheme, la boheme
Moments of joy, moments of pain
La boheme, la boheme
Nothing can bring them back again
a na srpskom, evo kako ju je otpevao takođe legendarni Dragan Stojnić i to odmah te davne 1965 godine
pozdrav
Peca Zombi
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