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Oh Poetry,my wine

Updated on July 15, 2016

La Môme Piaf ,by Greta Lain

December 1915

Ma vie-

Mother was singing

Father was struggling,

on a rope,drunk acrobat.

I was just there,breathing,

among them.

Belleville's pavements were gray

but pale rose,were my dreams.

I had no dreams back then

came later,voiced words

through my mouth,La Marseillaise

Je Repars A Zéro-

Give me strength Sainte Thérèse

I want to see again,to have eyes

and see.The brothel is full of blind images,

fragrances,sweat,women naked,

hedonist men.Grandma is here.

-You will see again ma petite.

You have to see the wheel of Fortune,

I am turning for you.

Oh Yes!I see!Fires and acrobats,

trampolines and red and white tents,

a circus caravan and my living there.


Sainte Thérèse,merci.

I have a voice,pale

with strength and courage.

I have two legs that i can step on

I have a voice that people pay for

I have a life to live for .

Ah Oui!Parlons en de la térre!-

I sing,Feeling Alive

my hands,i feel,i can touch the sky.

Lovers,Friends ,la fumeè,

l'alcool et les bouchones de champagne

1949,L'Hymne à L'Amour-

Marcel,what morphine to heal me?

What song to sing me?

What cross to save me?

My feet are feeling the sand,

Of a heated beach.A plane,

above my head,taking my foulard away.

Eyes that were gazing into mine.

Non! Je ne Regrette Rien!-

I continue to live in order to sing.

My veins are pierced a thousand times.

As Long As I Sing.

Sainte Thérèse,Avec mes souvenirs,

If i rest now,find my daughter

A woolen basket waiting

For me in your arms.

Do Not Close The Curtains!!

I Want To Sing!!

La Vie En Rose.

Ma Vie-

October 1963


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