méli-mélopée
I have attempted, below, to translate this fantastic (in my humble opinion) song by the Montreal-based singer Plume Latraverse. The translation isn't intended to be able to fit to the music, since to do so would have been to go even further away from the poetry of the 7-minute long original in French. The song was included on the album Chants d'épuration, released on Disques Dragon in 2003.
Take up your star, Clandestine voyager, And hoist the sails, In the morning mist. Forget about the too-pretty roads, Cut through the short-cuts, For the voice that is calling you Has come to open up your path. And your hands will find a way To damage your life and finally die in it. Take up your star, Your songs, your sorrows, Which are unveiling Your fruit with all its seeds. May creation come! Your life will be hers. Your magic weapon Will explode between her kidneys! And your hands will find a way To damage your life and finally die in it. Take up your star, And leave space in your hands Which are gropeing. Forget about slavery, Go back to your savage life, And may the grand clearing-up Bring you back to nothing! When your hands will find a way To damage your life and finally die in it. Lover's cry Resounding in an endless night. A sound that travels, And which dies when evening falls. (Morning has broken without waiting) May the night come back from her shadows! Lover's cry Fading like the spirit of flowers. With no return, Losing some of their colour each day. (I know well that life wants it to be like this) May Hope come slipping under my door! (An endless night, where dreams fall into the abyss) Like waves, shouting themselves out against a beach. Lover's cry Choked by so many habits, Follow their path, Be shaped into solitude. Destiny takes life and sends it packing. Like the dog taking its master on a lead.