SUR LA ROUTE - ON THE ROAD

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/        \           \     /            \  _  AU  DÉTOUR DU  VIRAGE    _/      \        /          \    /    \    
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                                               J'ai traversé certains villages                      

                                               Où il fallait être né bouquetin
           
                                            Pour passer de la maison au jardin             
                                               
                                         Cependant, les sourires sur les visages

                                               Et les étoiles au fond des yeux             
                     
                                           Laissaient deviner des gens heureux
                         
                                          Pour compléter ce tableau surréaliste                                        
                                                                           
                                             Les vaches en véritables artistes                                          
                                                                            
                                               Défiaient les lois de la gravité                              
                                                                                 
                                        Leurs sabots par des ventouses, remplacés
                                                                                   
                                              J'y vois un petit monde tranquille                                  
                                                                                            
                                            Bien  loin de l'effervescence des villes
                                                                                               
                                          A cet endroit, le temps a posé ses valises
                                                                                                    
 /                                          Préférant offrir à la vie, d'autre balises






MY TRADUCTION
                                                                                                   
       
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/        \           \     /            \  _ __ _  AT  TURNING OF _  _  _  /      \        /          \    /    \
                       \ /                                THE   BEND                        \     /              \/       \
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                                               I went through some villages

                                                Where it had been born ibex

                                           To go from the house to the garden

                                             However, the smiles on the faces

                                                And the stars deep into eyes

                                                 Let guessing happy people

                                             To complete this surreal picture

                                                   Cows like true artists

                                            Were defying the laws of gravity

                                       Their hooves by suction cups, replaced

                                               I see here a quiet little world

                                             Far from the bustle of the cities

                                In this place, the time has put down its suitcases

                                          Preferring to offer life, other beacons