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La bohème - Live à l'Olympia, Paris / 1968

de Charles Aznavour

Let me tell of the time, when the world was in rhyme with the sound of our laughter
Montmartre hung with flowers
Those far farther than ours, of hunger and of love
And aware 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 bohème, la bohème
Poor hungry you, poor hungry me
La bohème, la bohème
Silly old world that could not see

All those innocent hearts, who imagined their arts could be casually mastered
And each and everyone, the sands of time had gone away from each and all
For each scenes that are schemed
For impossible dreams that could never have lasted
For when we woke at last the big parade had passed
And Spring had gone it's way

La bohème, la bohème
Someone to care, someone to mind
La bohème, la bohème
We were in love and love is blind

Now and then I return, and the memories burn with a bitter sweet aching
I climb the same old stairs, but no one longer cares
And there's no one to greet in the street were we walked,
Or the bars were we talked of the world we were making
I stand up on that hill, until I drink my fill, then leave it all behind

La bohème, la bohème
Moments of joy, moments of pain
La bohème, la bohème
Nothing can bring them back again

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