Mylord - English Translation

Since I seem to be on a roll with translating Edith Piaf's songs, I thought I'd do the honours for one of my favourites. I mentioned a while ago that I've always enjoyed singing Mylord during broody moments.

Basically this song tells the story of a young girl from more seedy areas of some French port who falls in love with a high society gentleman or lord (my lord = mylord with a French accent!) She has probably stalked him enough but he's never really payed any attention to her. One day, the man's heart is broken when his equally well-bred lady leaves the port to never return. This is our young girl's opportunity to cheer up Mylord and hint to her infatuation without any hope for anything in return.

I love this song because it hints to quiet, unrequited love and yearning. It also highlights the girl's complete self-oblivion in tending to her lord's broken heart with scant attention to her own.

Here it is!

Mylord by Edith Piaf

Alez, venez, Milord!
Vous asseoir à ma table;
Il fait si froid, dehors,
Ici c'est confortable.
Laissez-vous faire, Milord
Et prenez bien vos aises,
Vos peines sur mon coeur
Et vos pieds sur une chaise

Come along Milord!
Take a seat at my table;
It is so cold outside,
It's cosier in here.
Just relax Milord
And be sure to make yourself comfortable,
Let my heart share your pains,
And place your feet up on a chair.

Je vous connais, Milord,
Vous n'm'avez jamais vue
Je ne suis qu'une fille du port,
Qu'une ombre de la rue...

I know about you, Milord,
But you, you've never seen me.
I'm only a girl from the port,
A shadow in the streets...

Pourtant j'vous ai frolé
Quand vous passiez hier,
Vous n'étiez pas peu fier,
Dame! Le ciel vous comblait:
Votre foulard de soie
Flottant sur vos épaules,
Vous aviez le beau role,
On aurait dit le roi...
Vous marchiez en vainqueur
Au bras d'une demoiselle
Mon Dieu!... Qu'elle était belle...
J'en ai froid dans le coeur...

Yet I brushed past you
When you were passing by yesterday,
You were not just a little proud,
Hell! The heavens had blessed you:
Your silk scarp
Floated on your shoulders,
You were in the limelight, (literally "you had the best role")
One would have mistaken you for a king...
You walked like a conqueror,
A young lady under your arm
My God!....How beautiful she was...
It gives my heart such a chill...

Allez, venez, Milord!
Vous asseoir à ma table;
Il fait si froid, dehors,
Ici c'est confortable.
Laissez-vous faire, Milord,
Et prenez bien vos aises,
Vos peines sur mon coeur
Et vos pieds sur une chaise


Come along Milord!
Take a seat at my table;
It is so cold outside,
It's cosier in here.
Just relax Milord
And be sure to make yourself comfortable,
Let my heart share your pains,
And place your feet up on a chair.

Je vous connais, Milord,
Vous n'm'avez jamais vue
Je ne suis qu'une fille du port
Qu'une ombre de la rue...

I know about you, Milord,
But you, you've never seen me.
I'm only a girl from the port,
A shadow in the streets...

Dire qu'il suffit parfois
Qu'il y ait un navire
Pour que tout se déchire
Quand le navire s'en va...
Il emmenait avec lui
La douce aux yeux si tendres
Qui n'a pas su comprendre
Qu'elle brisait votre vie
L'amour, ca fait pleurer
Comme quoi l'existence
Ça vous donne toutes les chances
Pour les reprendre après...

And to think that often
All it takes is a ship
For everything to be ruined
When the ship leaves...
It takes away with it
The sweet one with eyes so tender
Who could not understand
That she was breaking your heart.
Love, it makes us cry
Such that one's existence
Gives one all the chances
Only to take them away afterwards...

Allez, venez, Milord!
Vous avez l'air d'un mome!
Laissez-vous faire, Milord,
Venez dans mon royaume:
Je soigne les remords,
Je chante la romance,
Je chante les milords
Qui n'ont pas eu de chance!
Regardez-moi, Milord,
Vous n'm'avez jamais vue...
...Mais... vous pleurez, Milord?
Ça... j'l'aurais jamais cru!...

Come along Milord!
You look like a kid!
Just relax Milord
Come into my kingdom:
I heal all remorse,
I sing all romances,
I sing for those milords
Who never had any chance!
Look at me Milord,
You have never seen me...
...But...You are crying, Milord?
That...I would never have believed it!...

Eh ben, voyons, Milord!
Souriez-moi, Milord!
...Mieux qu' ca! Un petit effort...
Voilà, c'est ca!
Allez, riez, Milord!
Allez, chantez, Milord!
La-la-la...
Mais oui, dansez, Milord!
La-la-la... Bravo Milord!
La-la-la... Encore Milord!... La-la-la...

Well then Milord!
Smile at me Milord!
...Better than that! A little effort...
There you go, that's it!
Come on laugh Milord!
Come on and sing Milord!
La-la-la...
Yes, dance Milord!
La-la-la...Bravo Milord!
La-la-la...One more Milord!...La-la-la...

Tran Tien Family Genealogy

Two of my Vietnamese relatives who I've actually never met and who happened to stumble on this blog, kindly contacted me with some information on our family name. I have been so busy (distracted) of late that I could not make adjustments to this blog following their recommendations.

According to my relatives, after the assassination of Regent Tran Tien-Thanh, my family changed its name from "Tran Tien" to the more common Tran so as to avoid negative repercussions and protect the family members. My grandmother also explained to me that the dropping of the "Tien" removed association with the imperial family since that title had been conferred by Emperor Tu Duc.

However in recent years, my family has begun to use its rightful name once again. I guess that now, we are well and truly safe from the Co-Regents' wrath!! Naturally I was very excited to learn of this because it lends even more interest to the family history.

So to avoid further confusion, all references to the Tran genealogy in this blog are in fact alluding to the Tran Tien Genealogy.

All my humble thanks to Van Nghi Cong On and Brent Hung Tien Tran. Apologies for the delay with this as I am swamped.

L'Homme a La Moto - English Translation

Remember that sinister Piaf song I was singing a few months ago? With my deep, tenebrous voice echoing against the shower walls...that song I sing regularly when I'm down, without knowing why...but it gives me such a lift!

Well it's about a delinquent and his effect on a small village.
It's this dude on a motorbike who treats his girl and all those around him carelessly. He meets his death in the end, during a violent accident.



I love this song. Amusing and terrifying at the same time! I think this song was socially relevant in the 50s or 60s when machinery and noise became the dread of previously quiet French villages (or towns)! The song has a warning quality and seems disapproving of loud noise, speed, machinery and youth's newly found freedom. It relies on stereotypes of the time, associating leather and tattoos with violence and disrespect for society. It includes what, at the time, was probably a befittingly retributive ending in response to the chaos raised by modern delinquents. I can understand why this song was so popular! The mood created by Piaf's urgent, blasting delivery is unbeatable. And what's not to like about those steamtrain sound effects and those dramatic drum rolls.

Here is my personal English translation, with French lyrics sung by Edith Piaf.


Chorus:

Il portait des culottes, des bottes de moto
Un blouson de cuir noir avec un aigle sur le dos
Sa moto qui partait comme un boulet de canon
Semait la terreur dans toute la région.

He wore motorbike pants and boots,
A black leather blazer with an eagle on the back.
His motorbike went like a cannonball
Spreading terror in the entire region.

Jamais il ne se coiffait, jamais il ne se lavait
Les ongles pleins de cambouis mais sur les biceps il avait
Un tatouage avec un cœur bleu sur la peau bleme
Et juste à l'intérieur, on lisait: "Maman je t'aime"
Il avait une petite amie du nom de Marie-Lou
On la prenait en pitié, une enfant de son âge
Car tout le monde savait bien qu'il aimait entre tout
Sa chienne de moto bien davantage.

He never combed his hair, He never washed himself,
Sludge filled his fingernails but on his biceps he had,
A tattoo featuring a blue heart on pale skin,
And inside it one could read "Mother I Love you".
He had a girlfriend, Marie-Lou was her name,
They all took pity on her, a child of her age...
Because everyone knew well how much he loved
His bitch of a motorbike above all things.

Il portait des culottes, des bottes de moto
Un blouson de cuir noir avec un aigle sur le dos
Sa moto qui partait comme un boulet de canon
Semait la terreur dans toute la région.

He wore motorbike pants and boots,
A black leather blazer with an eagle on the back
His motorbike went like a cannonball
Spreading terror in the entire region

Marie-Lou la pauvre fille l'implora, le supplia
"Dit Ne pars pas ce soir, je vais pleurer si tu t'en vas"
Mais les mots furent perdus, ses larmes pareillement
Dans le bruit de la machine et du tuyau d'échappement
Il bondit comme un diable avec des flammes dans les yeux
Au passage à niveau, ce fut comme un éclair de feu
Contre une locomotive qui filait vers le midi
Et quand on débarrassa les débris,

Marie-Lou, the poor girl, implored him and begged him
"Say, do not go tonight, I will cry if you leave".
But the words were lost, her tears also
In the noise of the machine and of the exhaust pipe.
He lept like a demon with flames in his eyes,
At the crossing it was like thundering fire
Against a steamtrain that sped towards the South.
And when they came to sift out the debris,

On trouva sa culotte, ses bottes de moto
Son blouson de cuir noir avec un aigle sur le dos
Mais plus rien de la moto et plus rien de ce démon
Qui semait la terreur dans toute la région.

They found his motorbike pants and his boots
His black leather blazer with an eagle on the back
But nothing left of this motorbike and nothing left of this demon
Who once spread terror in the entire region.

San Churro

There is a rumour that a strand of some Spanish epidemic has spread through various parts of Australia. While visiting Melbourne last December, Jason and me witnessed it first hand, on Lygon Street. At first we rubbed our eyes, disbelieving what was before us. We thought such things only manifested in places like Madrid.

But we were wrong.


There it was. San Churro. The most deadly franchise to hit Australia. Particularly lethal to chocaholics and lovers of fried, dough goodness. We soon took to interviewing the handsome brunette at the bar and he assured us, in what I can only describe as feverish enthusiasm, that the franchise was already well established in NSW, VIC and WA and had recently reached the Sunshine Coast in QLD. Soon, most probably this year, it would find another host in the Gold Coast...We gasped in horror. What about Brisbane???

But here we were on Lygon St and the damage was done. We became infected with an urge that was only too familiar. The urge to generously dip a long Spanish doughnut into rich, thick chocolate and watch it disappear bite after bite into our mouths.


After a long, wistful glance at the menu (which does not limit itself to Churros!), we decided to opt for a classic plate of Churros with a choice of two dips. The first was the classic milk chocolate dip. The other dip, was the scourge of all dieters: Argentinian Caramel.


I had in fact read about this very Caramel dip online. The victim had emphasised that resistance to any indulgence would be futile. That this was no ordinary caramel, not the boiled condensed-can-kind of caramel. Something far more insidious. But it was too late to pay heed to any warning: we did not survive the Argentinian Caramel. By far, the thickest, glossiest caramel I had ever seen, it was however, anything but sickly sweet.


After recovering from this sudden attack and while still giddy from the assault, we found ourselves looking around the franchise restaurant. I took a few photos of the interior for evidence. I want others to know what they are facing if they are exposed to San Churro.


I want them to know that San Churro is as close as you will come to paradise...


And that there is no immunity.