October

Song 304: Protestants (Not Catholics)

Based on the song "Istanbul (Not Constantinople)", which was released for the 500th anniversary of the fall of Constantinople. This song is a humorous take on the Protestant Reformation that began in 1517 and turned 500 in 2017, the end of which this was written on.

I'm Protestant, Catholic no more
We're Protestants, Catholics no more
Bringing down the Church, oh forget Jan Hus
Ninety-five theses, against the Holy See

Every soul in Saxony
Is now Protestant, not Catholic
So if you're a prince and you have turned
Better make your way to the Diet of Worms

Consubstantiation, not transubstantiation
Why the change Calvin cannot say
Luther just liked it better that way

So reconvert to Catholicism
No I won't convert to Catholicism
Been a long time coming Protestantism
Who made the Pope a big loser?
That'd be good ol' Martin Luther

Protestant
Protestant!

Protestant
Protestant!
(Lutheran)
(Anglican)
(Calvinist)
(Anabaptist)
(Evangelical!)
(Presbyterian)

Consubstantiation, not transubstantiation
Why the change Loyola can't say
Luther just liked it better that way

I'm Protestant, Catholic no more
We're Protestants, Catholics no more
Bringing down the Church, oh forget Jan Hus
Who made the Pope a big loser?
That'd be good ol' Martin Luther

So reconvert to Catholicism
No I won't convert to Catholicism
Been a long time coming Protestantism
Who made the Pope a big loser?
That'd be good ol' Martin Luther 

Protestants!

Song 303: "The Bells" - The Family Crest

Love, give me your time
And pour me more wine
Set by the fire, we two
And I'd give it all for you

'Cause now, out in the streets
It's silent, it's sweet
And echoing soft

How the bells
They played their songs for you
And the bells
They played their songs for you

Oh, how now the night
It pulls down the light
Hear how the stars shine through
And I'd give it all for you

'Cause now out in the streets
It's silent, it's sweet
And echoing soft

How the bells
They played their songs for you
And the bells
They played their songs for you
La-da-da-da-da-da-dum
How the bells
They played their songs for you
And the bells
They played their songs for you
La-da-da-da-da-da-dum
How the bells
They played their songs for you
And the bells
They played their songs for you

Hold me under
My heart's a mess
Loud like thunder
Straight from my chest

Oh, outside it's cold
So dear, grab your coat
The city is quiet

And the bells
They played their songs for you
And the bells
They played their songs for you
And the bells
They played their songs for you
La-da-da-da-da-da-dum
And the bells
They played their songs for you

Song 302: "And So Do I" - AlicebanD

I said,
Heaven is a country that hasn't been found
There's people out there who aren't even around
And as you slowly make your way down bottomless stairs
I hope you know that I'm a friend who tries not to care

And says,
Oh no, no, I can't help you there
You gotta do it yourself, you gotta youthen your hair
And if you're still trying in a couple of years
Then I've got a lot of people who can shine a light in those tears
(Ye-eah)


He said,
Musn't marry anyone poorer than you
He's got to be clever, but no better than you
He's got to have a face that you can show to your friends
So if you ever find him make sure to check he's a man

He said,
Everyone is born but they still look the same
And little tiny struggles look for money and fame
And still they are all judged by our leaders and rules
So tell me why I'm the only one who thinks our leaders are fools

I said,
Heaven is a country that hasn't been found
There's people out there who aren't even around
And as you slowly make your way down bottomless stairs
I hope you know that I'm a friend who tries not to care

Song 301: "Cuando los pies besan el piso" - Calle 13

Siento La Tierra, bailando gano la guerra
Mi cuerpo siente, siente, siente La Tierra
Cuando mis pies besan el piso

Siento La Tierra, bailando gano la guerra
Mi cuerpo siente, siente, siente La Tierra
Cuando mis pies besan el piso


Baila diferente a todas las personas
Como si contigo se hubiesen mezclado mal los cromosomas
Si no sabes bailar no te quedes mirando
Muévete como si te estuvieran electrocutando

La coreografía no es compleja
Baila como si te estuvieran picando un millón de abejas
La energía de tus brazos nadie la gobierna
Hoy, lo que tienes son dos culebras por piernas

Hoy, el lenguaje corporal es nuestro idioma
Hoy, la columna vertebral está hecha de goma
La comida chatarra tu piel la está escupiendo
La grasa de tu cuerpo quiere salir corriendo

El suelo pide que lo invites a un duelo
Porque para él nuestros pies son caramelos
Mueve la masa de toda tu fortuna
Si no te mueves hoy el suelo te traga de una

Siento La Tierra, bailando gano la guerra
Mi cuerpo siente, siente, siente La Tierra
Cuando mis pies besan el piso

Siento La Tierra, bailando gano la guerra
Mi cuerpo siente, siente, siente La Tierra
Cuando mis pies besan el piso


Hoy es el día en que nacemos de nuevo
Tus neuronas moralistas yo las muevo
Con los pies, golpeando firme y preciso
Hasta que el cuerpo relate lo que nos cuenta el piso

Con los pies, golpea fuerte en el suelo
Hasta que despiertes a tus tatarabuelos
Golpea duro con los pies
Para que al fin en el campo llueva café

Con los pies se nutren los consuelos
De todas las vidas que se desangran en el suelo
Con los pies puedes vivir pisando mierda
Porque el suelo te acompaña aunque ganes o aunque pierdas

Con los pies camina por el borde
Aunque seas la nota discordante entre todos los acordes
Con los pies bailamos sin preocupaciones
Porque el suelo se sabe todas las canciones

Siento La Tierra, bailando gano la guerra
Mi cuerpo siente, siente, siente La Tierra
Cuando mis pies besan el piso

Siento La Tierra, bailando gano la guerra
Mi cuerpo siente, siente, siente La Tierra
Cuando mis pies besan el piso

Si siembras movimiento, bailan los cultivos
Las piernas se ponen fuertes porque el suelo es nutritivo
Baila, golpea el suelo, sacude lo negativo
Hoy todos los muertos regañan a los vivos

Todo lo que hice mal bailando lo mejoré
La historia de mi baile la cuento con los pies
La percusión pregunta y el cuerpo quiere contestar
El que se mueve bien con la boca no tiene que hablar

Siento La Tierra, bailando gano la guerra
Mi cuerpo siente, siente, siente La Tierra
Cuando mis pies besan el piso

Siento La Tierra, bailando gano la guerra
Mi cuerpo siente, siente, siente La Tierra
Cuando mis pies besan el piso

Song 300: "Ojalá" - Silvio Rodríguez

https://lyricstranslate.com/en/ojala-i-hope.html-0

Ojalá que las hojas no te toquen el cuerpo cuando caigan
Para que no las puedas convertir en cristal
Ojalá que la lluvia deje de ser milagro que baja por tu cuerpo
Ojalá que la luna pueda salir sin ti
Ojalá que la tierra no te bese los pasos

Ojalá se te acabe la mirada constante
La palabra precisa, la sonrisa perfecta
Ojalá pase algo que te borre de pronto
Una luz cegadora, un disparo de nieve
Ojalá por lo menos que me lleve la muerte
Para no verte tanto
para no verte siempre
En todos los segundos, en todas las visiones
Ojalá que no pueda tocarte ni en canciones

Ojalá que la aurora no de gritos que caigan en mi espalda
Ojalá que tu nombre se le olvide a esa voz
Ojalá las paredes no retengan tu ruido de camino cansado
Ojalá que el deseo se vaya tras de ti
A tu viejo gobierno de difuntos y flores

Ojalá se te acabe la mirada constante
La palabra precisa, la sonrisa perfecta
Ojalá pase algo que te borre de pronto
Una luz cegadora, un disparo de nieve
Ojalá por lo menos que me lleve la muerte
Para no verte tanto
para no verte siempre
En todos los segundos, en todas las visiones
Ojalá que no pueda tocarte ni en canciones

Ojalá pase algo que te borre de pronto
Una luz cegadora, un disparo de nieve
Ojalá por lo menos que me lleve la muerte
Para no verte tanto
Para no verte siempre
En todos los segundos, en todas las visiones
Ojalá que no pueda tocarte ni en canciones

Song 299: "The Approaching Curve" - Rise Against

The music played with a calming frequency.
The speakers gently seeped the sound of ambient keyboards and light percussion,
Creating a seductive soundtrack to our midnight drive through curtains of blackness.
The windows were cold to the touch,
Reflecting the icy conditions in our immediate extremity.
Salt stains and fingerprints littered the glass,
And streaks of melting snow cascaded down its length.
The music pulsed louder, yet gentle,
Like the far away squeal of a pot of boiling water.
The skyline was glowing faintly with vague hints of an impending dawn.
The car raced along a painfully straight stretch of road,
And she hadn't so much as turned the steering wheel two degrees in the last twenty minutes
Nor had we spoken.

As we were, so perfect, so happy.
They'll remember, only our smiles 'cause that's all they've seen.
Long since dried, when we are found, are the tears in which we had drowned.
As we were, so perfect, so happy.

"Why are you doing this?" she spoke as if not expecting a response.
Her voice penetrated the still air of our speechless drive,
So suddenly that my heart had jumped.
"I'm not doing anything," I said, but I didn't even believe that myself.
"This is what's best, for me, for you, for us," or maybe just for me I thought,
As a tear formed in the pit of her eye.
The music poured through the speakers and we were losing ourselves in the cadence.
She looked down momentarily and closed her eyes for a bit longer than a standard blink.
Then she was crying. Then she was shouting. Then I was shouting,
Now pouring confessions, having no answers, or solutions,
We barely even knew the questions.

As we were, so perfect, so happy.
They'll remember, only our smiles 'cause that's all they've seen.
Long since dried, when we are found, are the tears in which we had drowned.
As we were, so perfect, so happy.

Don't put me underground, I was meant for a life somewhere else.
Please, love, give me the wheel, before both of our hearts you
Will steal tonight (will steal tonight).

As we were, so perfect, so happy.
Don't remember, only your smiles 'cause that's all they've seen.
Long since dried, when we are found, are the tears in which we had drowned.
As we were, so perfect, so happy.

Our cracking voices became part of the music.
The car pressed on faster through the night. As our voices lowered,
The cadence again overtook the air.
Up ahead there was a curve approaching.
She made no indications of slowing.

Song 298: "Nieve, viento y sol" - Atahualpa Yupanqui

Desde mis montañas
Nieve, viento y sol,
He bajado al valle
Pa verte, mi amor.

He bajado al valle
Con una canción,
Llena de perfumes,
Nieve, viento y sol.

Traje la esperanza.
Traje la emoción.
Y solo desdenes
Me llevo de vos.

Vuelvo a la montaña
A pedirle a Dios
Pa estas penas mías
Nieve, viento y sol.

Nieve pa las penas.
Viento pa'l dolor.
Y sol pa las sombras
De mi corazón.

A llorar a solas
Y a pedirle a Dios
Pa estas penas mías,
Nieve, viento y sol.

From my mountains
Snow, wind and sun,
I have come down to the valley
To see you, my love

I have come down to the valley
With a song,
Filled of perfumes,
Snow, wind and sun

I brought hope.
I brought emotion.
And only disdain
Have I received from you.

I am returning to the mountain
To ask of God
For these hardships of mine
Snow, wind and sun

Snow for the hardships
Wind for my pain
And sun for the shadows
Of my heart

To cry all alone
And ask of God
For these hardships of mine
Snow, wind and sun

Song 297: "Apocalíptico" - Residente

Cuando se derrumba el paisaje
Y no haya pista pa' el aterrizaje
Y los milagros ya no salven gente
Porque los santos se tiraron de un puente

Cuando el clima pierda el control
Y se le queme la piel al sol
Cuando la arena se quede sola
Y el océano se ahogue con sus propias olas

Cuando se sacuda el suelo
Y las nubes se caigan del cielo
Y los árboles estén de rodillas
Con los troncos flacos enseñando las costillas

Cuando no queden rastros ni huellas
Y la luna se estrelle contra las estrellas
Y se rompa lo que ya estaba roto
Aquí estaremos nosotros

当海洋被自己淹没,
云彩 重重摔勒地面,
当太阳把自己受伤
当太阳把自己受伤
当树木只吐出废气
当树木只吐出废气
世界末日我们人在这里
世界末日我们人在


Cuando ya no quede casi nada
Y el día nos regale su última mirada
Y no hayan hojas pa' soplar el viento
Y la historia pierda el conocimiento

Cuando la lluvia se deshidrate
Y antes de llegar al piso se mate
Cuando el paracaídas no abra
Cuando las letras no formen palabras

Cuando las plantas mueran
Y mientras duermen la carne se enferme
Cuando se derrita el polo norte
Cuando los números no importen

Y los barcos no floten
Y los aviones choquen contra los trenes y exploten
Y los animales se coman entre ellos
Y las religiones se arranquen los cuellos

Cuando las banderas se prendan en fuego
Y todo pase ahora, y nada pase luego
Y se acaben los segundos
Y las manos del tiempo ahorquen al mundo

Cuando todo vaya más despacio
Cuando la materia ya no ocupe espacio
Y la gravedad se asuste y salgamos volando
Aquí estaremos esperando

当海洋被自己淹没,
云彩 重重摔勒地面,
当太阳把自己受伤
当太阳把自己受伤
当树木只吐出废气
当树木只吐出废气
世界末日我们人在这里
世界末日我们人在

Cuando el mar esté sumergido
las nubes bajen fuertemente desde el cielo
cuando el sol se hiera a si mismo
cuando los árboles escupan gas tóxico
Día del juicio final, nuestra gente está aqui Día del juicio final, nuestra gente está

Dāng hǎiyáng bèi zìjǐ yānmò,
yúncai chóngchóng shuāi lēi dìmiàn,
dāng tàiyáng bǎ zìjǐ shòushāng,
dāng tàiyáng bǎ zìjǐ shòushāng,
dāng shùmù zhǐ tǔchū fèiqì,
dāng shùmù zhǐ tǔchū fèiqì
shìjiè mòrì wǒmen rén zài zhèlǐ
shìjiè mòrì wǒmen rén zài

Song 296: "Milonga del solitario" - Atahualpa Yupanqui

Me gusta, de vez en cuando,
perderme en un bordoneo,
porque bordoneando veo
que ni yo mismo me mando.

Las cuerdas van ordenando
los rumbos del pensamiento,
y en el trotecito lento
de una milonga campera,
va saliendo campo ajuera
lo mejor del sentimiento.

Ninguno debe pensar,
que vengo en son de revancha.
No es mi culpa si en la cancha,
tengo con qué galopear.

El que me quiera ganar,
hai' tener buen parejero.
Yo me quitaré el sombrero,
porque así me han enseñao,
y me doy por bien pagao
dentrando detrás del primero.

Siempre bajito he cantao,
porque gritando no me hallo.
Grito al montar a caballo,
si en la caña me he bandeao.

Pero tratando un versiao,
ande se cuenten quebrantos,
apenas mi voz levanto
para cantar despacito.
Que el que se larga a los gritos,
no escucha su propio canto.

Si la muerte traicionera,
me acogota a su palenque,
háganme con dos rebenques,
la cruz pa' mi cabecera.
Si muero en mi madriguera,
mirando los horizontes,
no quiero cruces ni aprontes,
ni encargos para el Eterno.
Tal vez pasando el invierno,
me de sus flores el monte.

Toda la noche he cantau,
con el alma estremecida,
que el canto es la abierta herida,
de un sentimiento sagrau.
A naides tengo a mi lau,
porque no busco piedad.
Desprecio la caridad,
por la vergüenza que encierra.
Soy como el león de las sierras:
¡vivo y muero en soledad!

I like, from time to time,
to lose myself in a guitar song,*
because playing I see,
that not I even can control myself.

The chords organise
the routes of thought,
and with a light trot
of a rural dance,**
out into the fields are headed
the best of all emotions.

No one should think
that I come with vengeful thoughts.
It is not my fault if on the playing field
I have something which I can gallop with.

Whomever wants to beat me
will need a good partner.
I will take off my hat,
because that is how I have been taught,
and I consider myself well paid
if I place behind first place.

I have always sung quietly,
because I do not find myself shouting.
I shout when I mount on horseback,
if I have to find my way through the sugar cane.

But I trying a verse
where losses are told,
I barely raise my voice
to sing slowly.
Because those who start shouting,
do not listen to their own song.

If traitorous death
ties me to his hitching post,
make for me with two riding crops
the cross for my gravestone.
If I die in my burrow,
looking to the horizons,
I do not want crosses nor trappings***,
nor any favours to ask of the Eternal.
Perhaps by passing through the winter,
I will receive flowers from the mountain.

All the night I have sung
with a shuddering soul,
because a song is an open wound,
of a holy sentiment.
I have nobody by my side,
because I am not looking for pity.
I dislike charity,
because of the shame it bears along with it.
I am like the lion from the sierras:
I live and die in solitude!

*A bordoneo is any song involving drumming on an acoustic guitar’s wooden frame.

**A milonga itself is not necessarily rural, but is a generally common dance in the River Plate area, and is accompanied by music in 2/4 time.

***The correct translation would be something along the lines of ‘household goods’, akin to what people were buried with in pagan cultures (items for the next life), as aprontes are basically what would be found on a wedding registry (homemaking items).

Song 295: Mabel Grey

(The chorus, Malta, England and final verse were all written by Brown Bird, where the Shanghai, Rio and Valpo verses were all written by Sherlock Ehekatl)

We sail upon the ocean
On the decks of the Mabel Grey
And we search every port for a woman
For the woman who bears our ship's name


We landed our ship in Malta
And we looked for where good times are sold
And I've never met women so pretty
But I've never met women so cold

We headed to far-off Shanghai
We searched up high and down low
In ballrooms we kept an eye open
In gutters we reaped what we sowed

We made port in good ol' Rio
And we traded there what we could find
And I've never seen people so broken
A people who were truly blind

We took anchor in Valparaiso
And drank to our heart's delight
The women kept pisco flowing
The barroom gave a good fight

We landed our ship in England
'Cause we'd heard you'd been seen on their shores
But the people all said to keep movin'
That you were not allowed there no more

We have searched the world over to find you
And now that we have found you, you have changed
We are still the same crew of berserkers
That you knew, but maybe just a little more strange

Song 294: "The Water's Fine" - The Family Crest

You say your heart is found
And motion to the sound
You hold yourself against the wake
You say the water's fine

Save me from this life
I have made
I have made

There's a hustle and a bustle
In the city tonight and I find
That a feeling it grows,
feeling it grows,
feeling it grows
Down, down, down
from my legs to my spine

Oh!
Save me from this life
Bathe me in the light
Save me from the dark of the day

Save me from this life
Bathe me in the light
Save me from the dark of the day

You say this life is sound
And move upon the ground
You hold yourself against the waves
You say the water's fine

Song 293: "De tando dir y venir" - Atahualpa Yupanqui

De tanto dir y venir
tracé una huella en el campo.
Para el que después anduvo
ya fue camino liviano.

En infinitos andares
fui la gramilla pisando.
Raspé mí poncho en los talas.
Me hirieron pinchos de cardo.

Las huellas no se hacen solas
ni con sólo el dir pisando.
Hay que rondar madrugadas
maduras en sueño y llanto.
Hay que rondar madrugadas
maduras en sueño y llanto.

Viento de injustas arenas
fueron mi huella tapando.
Lo que antes fue clara senda
se enllenó de espina y barro.

Parece que no hubo nada
si se mira sin mirarlo.
Todo es malezal confuso,
pero mi huella está abajo.

Desparejo es el camino.
Hoy ando senderos ásperos.
Piso la espina que hiere,
pero mi huella está abajo,
pero mi huella está abajo,

Tal vez un día la limpien
los que sueñan caminando.
Yo les daré, desde lejos
mi corazón de regalo.
Yo les daré, desde lejos
mi corazón de regalo.

Song 292: "Black Letters" - The Dreadnoughts

He was just 18
when he saw her smiling face
As she danced along the streets of Montreal
And in 1916
she gave her hand for him to hold
In the church beneath the ancient city walls

But now he lies awake, staring up into the dark
At the eyes of a million tiny gods
And when the sun goes up, they’ll go over the top, for good….

So he writes her Black Letters
By the time you read these words
There will be no more war, for me
There will be only peace

He was her only son
And she rocked him back and forth
In the cradle of the tall Alberta grain
And he was scarce a man
When he answered to the call
left her crying as he stepped onto the train

And she was all alone, staring at the moon
When his body hit the sand beneath Calais
And when the sun came up, his words were on the steps for her

And she read his black letters…
By the time you read these words
There will be no more war, for me
There will be only peace


The day will come
Where we look into the eyes
Of a fate that is much greater than us all
And by the setting sun
We’ll write the words we’d wish to echo
In the hearts of our loved ones should we fall

Those thin dark lines, so delicate and fine,
Like a road that could show the way back home
But at the ending of the day, our memories will fade for good

Except for our black letters
By the time you read these words
There will be no more war, for me
There will be only peace

Song 291: "Behind Close Doors" - Rise Against

Chairs thrown and tables toppled,
Hands armed with broken bottles,
Standing no chance to win but,
We're not running, we're not running.

There's a point I think we're missing,
It's in the air we raise our fists in,
In the smiles we cast each other,
My sister, my brother.

About the time we gave up hoping
We'd ever find these locks still open,
Stumbling on stones unturned,
The hurt we feel, we all have earned.

The lines we cross in search of change,
But all they see is treason.

Although we have no obligation to stay alive
On broken backs we beg for mercy, we will survive
(Break out) I won't be left here
Behind closed doors.

Bonfires burn like beacons,
Guiding the lost and weakened.
Flames dance on crashing waves,
Guiding ships who've gone astray

Time out, let's stop and think this through,
We've all got better things to do,
Than talk in circles, run in place,
Answers inches from our face.

Although we have no obligation to stay alive
On broken backs we beg for mercy, we will survive
(Break out) I won't be left here
Behind closed doors.

Black eyes, broken fingers,
Blood drips and I let it run
Down my lips into my swollen gums.
When hope is non-existent,
Our instincts all scream "Run",
We never turn our backs or even bite our tongues.

Although we have no obligation to stay alive
On broken backs we beg for mercy, we will survive
(Break out) I won't be left here
Behind closed doors.

Song 290: "De aquellos cerros vengo" - Atahualpa Yupanqui

De aquellos cerros vengo, negra querida,
a buscar los despojos del alma mía.
De aquellos cerros vengo, negra querida,
a buscar los despojos del alma mía.
Fresquita y ansiosa vidita yo te la entregué.
Tu la destrozaste, y vidita yo no sé por qué.
Tarareo
De aquellos cerros vengo, negra querida...

Este ponchito mío, de tres colores,
me dice que no fíe de tus amores.
Este ponchito mío, de tres colores,
me dice que no fíe de tus amores.
Palomita ingrata, vidita y me has pagado mal,
córtate las alas, vidita y deja de volar...
Tarareo...
De aquellos cerros vengo, paloma mía.

Song 289: "Ma France" - Jean Ferrat

From lowlands to forests, from vales to hills
From the spring to be born to your dead seasons (1)
From what I lived to what I imagine
I shall not stop writing your song
My France

In the great Summer sun which curves Provence
From brooms of Brittany to heathers of Ardèche (2)
Something in the air has that transparency
And that taste for happiness that makes my lip dry
My France

That air of freedom beyond borders
Which used to take foreign people's breath away
And which whom you nowadays usurp the prestige
She still answers for the name of Robespierre
My France

The one of old Hugo railing from his exile (3)
Of five years old children working in the mines
The one who built with her hands your factories
The one whom mister Thiers said :"Lets' shoot her !" (4)
My France

Picasso holds the world at the tip of his palette
From Eluard's lips some doves fly away (5)
They do not stop, your prophetic artists,
To say "It's time for misfortune to succumb"
My France

Their voices multiply to make but one
The one who always pays for your crimes, your mistakes
Filling History and its mass graves
May I sing forever the workers' one (6)
My France

The one who has her sleepless nights for only gold
For the stubborn struggle of that daily time
From newspapers you sell on a Sunday morning (7 )
To the poster you hang on a wall the day after (8 )
My France

May she rise from mines, descend from hills
The one who sings in me, the pretty, the rebel
She holds the future tight in her thin hands
The one from thirty-six to sixty-eight candles (9)
My France


Submitted by cyr22 on Thu, 12/02/2015 - 13:02
Author's comments:
(1) "morte saison" is usually translated as "off season" but I thought it was too prosaic here and didn't reflect the author's intention

(2) Provence, Brittany and Ardèche are french cultural and administrative regions/departments

(3) Victor Hugo, among the greatest and most famous french writers in History

(4) Adolphe Thiers was a president under the 3rd French republic and is historically considered, at least in popular culture, to be responsible for the bloody repression of the Paris Commune in May 1871

(5) Paul Eluard, famous french poet from the early 20th century, a major member of the dadaist and surrealist artistic movements

(6) Because in French the word is the same for "story" and "history", the author switches in this verse from one meaning to the other

(7) As the author talks about the working classes' bravery here, it could be assumed that he evokes L'Humanité (lit. The Mankind ), the press organ of French communist party, as Ferrat himself was a supporter of it, though he never was an official member

(8 ) literal translation would be "on the day after's wall" but I didn't like the sound of it

(9 ) subtle pun using several linguistic and historical concepts : "to see stars" translates as "voir 36 chandelles " (lit. "to see thirty-six candles" ); sixty-eight arguably refers to May 1968, month historically renowned for having seen the biggest social contestation movement in France since the end of WW II ; and the author uses the tradition of birthday candles to mean that the France he belongs to has a wide variety of ages

De plaines en forêts de vallons en collines
Du printemps qui va naître à tes mortes saisons
De ce que j'ai vécu à ce que j'imagine
Je n'en finirai pas d'écrire ta chanson
Ma France

Au grand soleil d'été qui courbe la Provence
Des genêts de Bretagne aux bruyères d'Ardèche
Quelque chose dans l'air a cette transparence
Et ce goût du bonheur qui rend ma lèvre sèche
Ma France

Cet air de liberté au-delà des frontières
Aux peuples étrangers qui donnait le vertige
Et dont vous usurpez aujourd'hui le prestige
Elle répond toujours du nom de Robespierre
Ma France

Celle du vieil Hugo tonnant de son exil
Des enfants de cinq ans travaillant dans les mines
Celle qui construisit de ses mains vos usines
Celle dont monsieur Thiers a dit qu'on la fusille
Ma France

Picasso tient le monde au bout de sa palette
Des lèvres d'Éluard s'envolent des colombes
Ils n'en finissent pas tes artistes prophètes
De dire qu'il est temps que le malheur succombe
Ma France

Leurs voix se multiplient à n'en plus faire qu'une
Celle qui paie toujours vos crimes vos erreurs
En remplissant l'histoire et ses fosses communes
Que je chante à jamais celle des travailleurs
Ma France

Celle qui ne possède en or que ses nuits blanches
Pour la lutte obstiné de ce temps quotidien
Du journal que l'on vend le matin d'un dimanche
A l'affiche qu'on colle au mur du lendemain
Ma France

Qu'elle monte des mines descende des collines
Celle qui chante en moi la belle la rebelle
Elle tient l'avenir, serré dans ses mains fines
Celle de trente-six à soixante-huit chandelles
Ma France

Song 288: "The Bear and the Butcher Boy" - Gaelic Storm

Wrapped up in brown paper, tied up with white string
He would whistle as he went
When he was happy, he would sing


Well-
Billy Batty was a butcher boy, he rode a butcher's bike
Down Dublin's dirty back streets at the dawning of daylight
He loved a girl named Lucy, Lucy loved another lad
A soldier tall and handsome, this made young Billy sad
One day a circus came to town it had a dancing bear
Billy had to go for he knew she would be there
The second he rode up he know that something was awry
The crowd was all a gallop, Yelling "Run before you die!"
Well the bear was mad with hunger as he broke free from his chain
He had rampaged through the big top when all at once he came
Across the poor young Lucy, fallen curled up on the ground
The soldier boy was hiding he was nowhere to be found

Wrapped up in brown paper, tied up with white string
He would whistle as he went
When he was happy, he would sing


Now Billy heard her screams and he knew at once what he must do
He took off on his trusty bike and to her aid he flew
He cycled right up to the bear and threw a piece of meat
The bear spun right around and he caught that beefy treat
He scarfed it down in just one bite and looked up for some more
Round him circled, Billy trailing sausage on the floor
Just out of reach he kept him, as he lured the beast away
The bear had got a taste, now brave young Billy was his prey

Wrapped up in brown paper, tied up with white string
He would whistle as he went
When he was happy, he would sing


He would sing-
Three times around the tent, the creature had stop
He rested and he thought, then he began to skip and hop
He danced a polka and a waltz to everyone's delight
The crowd began to clap and cheer at such a wondrous site
Billy tossed the bear a lamb chop and a mighty t-bone steak
The dancing just got faster and the ground began to shake
He swallowed whole two turkeys, strings of sausages galore
Then full, he gently lay down and began to loudly snore
Well the crowd went wild with pleasure and to our hero Lucy ran
She forgot the soldier boy, now brave young Billy was her man
Now the moral of this story is, if ya want to win your Lucy
You better have a trusty bike and a sausage plump and juicy
A sausage plump and juicy

Wrapped up in brown paper, tied up with white string
Now he never whistles
Every day, every day he sings-
Ah la la diddle dee dum di diddle da
And every day, every day he sings-
La da du diddle dee dum di diddle da
Dum di doop di dum di doo…

You've got:
Chitterlings and chicken wings
Liver, tongue or tail
Gizzards, skirt or marrowbone
Game-hen, grouse or quail
There's trotters, t-bone, legs or thighs
Brisket, neck or jowl
Partridge, duck and turkey
Pheasant, guinea fowl
Rib Eye, round or sirloin
Topside, rump or flank
Bison, goat, rummed and broiled
Porterhouse or Shank
Black pudding, bacon, rashers
Scratchings, chicken feet
Haggis, ham and sweat bread
There's every kind of meat
You've got shoulder, mutton, rabbit
A rack of lamb or chops
Veil, venison, tripe
And kidney, heart or hocks

Song 287: "To Go To Sea Once More"

When first I landed in Liverpool
I went upon the spree 
While money lasts, I spent it fast 
Got drunk as drunk could be 
And when me money was all gone 
On liquors and the whores, 
I made up me mind that I was inclined 
To go to sea no more

No more, no more
To go to sea no more
I made up me mind that I was inclined
To go to sea no more

As I was walking down the street
I met with Angeline
She said: ”come home with me, my lad 
And we’ll have a cracking time”
But when I awoke it was no joke
I found I was all alone,
My silver watch and my money too
And my whole bloody gear was gone

Was gone, was gone 
My whole bloody gear was gone 
When I awoke it was no joke 
For my whole bloody gear was gone 

As I was walking down the street
I met Big Rapper Brown
I asked him if he would take me in
And he looked at me with a frown,
He said: “last time you was paid off with me
You chalked up no score
But I’ll take your advance
And I’ll give you'se a chance
To go to sea once more."

Once more, once more 
To go to sea once more 
I’ll take your advance 
And I’ll give you'se a chance 
To go to sea once more

He sent me aboard of a whaling ship
bound for the arctic seas
where cold winds blow
and there’s frost and snow
and jamaica rum would freeze
but worst of all; I’d no hardweather gear
for I’d lost all my dunnage ashore
it was there that I wished I was dead
and go to sea no more

No more,no more
To go to sea no more
It was then that I wished that I was dead
And go to sea no more

Sometimes we’re catching whales me lads,
but mostly we get none
with a twenty foot oar in every paw
from five o’clock in th mor’n
and when daylights gone
and the nights coming on
we rest upon our oars
and o’boys you wish that you was dead
or snug with the girls ashore

Ashore, ashore
Or snug with the girls ashore
O’boys you wish that you was dead
Or snug with the girls ashore

Come all you sea-faring lads
that listen to me song
when you go a-big boating, boys
make sure you do not go wrong
You take my tip when you come off a trip
Don’t go with any whores
But get married instead, and have all night in bed
And go to sea no more

No more, no more
To go to sea no more
Get married instead and have all night in bed
And go to sea no more

Song 286: "La pobrecita" - Atahualpa Yupanqui

Le llaman la Pobrecita
porque esta zamba nació en los campos.
Con una guitarra mal encordada
la cantan siempre los tucumanos.
Con una guitarra mal encordada
la cantan siempre los tucumanos.

Allá en los cañaverales
cuando lo noche viene llegando.
Por entre los surcos se ven de lejos
los tucu-tucus de los cigarros.
Por entre los surcos se ven de lejos
los tucu-tucus de los cigarros.

Solsito del camino.
Lunita de mis pagos.
En la pobrecita zamba del surco
cantan sus penas los tucumanos...
Tarareo...
cantan sus penas los tucumanos...

Mi zamba no canta dichas,
solo pesares tiene el paisano.
Con las hilachitas de una esperanza
forman sus sueños los tucumanos.
Con las hilachitas de una esperanza
forman sus sueños los tucumanos.

Conozco la triste pena
de las ausencias y del mal pago.
En mi noche larga prenden sus fuegos
los tucu-tucus del desengaño.
En mi noche larga prenden sus fuegos
los tucu-tucus del desengaño.

Solsito, del camino.
Lunita de mis pagos.
En la pobrecita zamba del surco,
cantan sus penas los tucumanos.
Tarareo...
cantan sus penas los tucumanos...

Song 285: "She Knows my Name" - The Family Crest

Now with a wonder
She wakes by the curtains, she knows
That the morning brings an ending to our love
And the window it shakes with a silence that grows
Oh it hurts her but she's never never known

Oh it's not that bad when she goes
'Cause she sings my name like it's a sad, sad song
Oh it's not that bad when she's away

She knows my name she knows it well
And she knows my face more than herself
But I wish her well

Here in the morning
She wakes without warning, she cries
"Oh, I love you dear!"
And this widow of old past insidious hearts
Well she screams a lot and cries to be alone

So it's not that bad when she goes
'Cause she sings my name like it's a sad, sad song
Oh it's not that bad when she's away

She knows my name, she knows it well
And she knows my face, more than herself
But I wish her well

Sometimes she stalks and moans like a ghost
And the way she throws her words
Well they hurt me to the bones
They weigh me down like stones

Here, in the evening
My words are deceiving and cold
And oh, with a wonder
Our hearts torn asunder it shows
That her love was just an excuse to be loved

So it's not that bad when she goes
'Cause she sings my name like it's a sad, sad song
Oh it's not that bad when she goes

'Cause she sings my name like it's a sad, sad song
A sad song