Demain,    dès l’aube,    à l’heure où    blanchit    la campagne,

Je partirai.                                                            Vois-tu,
je sais que                                                             tu m’attends.

J’irai par                                                             la forêt,
j’irai par                                                             la montagne.

Je ne puis     demeurer    loin de     toi plus     longtemps.



                                                             Je     marcherai     les yeux fixés    sur mes     pensées ,
                                                             Sans rien                                                              voir au dehors,
                                                             sans entendre                                                              aucun bruit,

                                                             Seul, inconnu,                                                              le dos courbé,
                                                             les mains croisées,
                                                              Triste,
                                                             et le jour     pour moi    sera     comme     la nuit.



Je ne     regarderai 
    ni l’or     du soir     qui tombe,
Ni les .                                                              voiles au loin
descendant                                                              vers Harfleur,
Et quand                                                              j’arriverai,
je mettrai                                                              sur ta tombe
Un bouquet    de houx     vert et     de bruyère     en fleur.





Tomorrow,    at Dawn,    in the hour when     the countryside     becomes white,
I will leave.                                                             You see,
I know that                                                              you are waiting for me.
I will go by                                                              the forest,
I will go by                                                              the mountain.
I cannot     stay     far from     you any     longer.



                                                             I will     walk     the eyes fixed    on my     thoughts ,
                                                             Without                                                              seeing anything outside,
                                                             nor hearing                                                              any noise,
                                                             Alone, unknown,                                                              the back curved,
                                                             the hands crossed, Sad,
                                                             and the day     for me     will be     like     the night.



I will not     look     at the gold     of the evening     which falls,
Nor the.                                                              faraway sails
descending                                                              towards Harfleur,
And when                                                              I arrive,
I will put                                                              on your tomb

A green     bouque    of holly and     flowering     heather.