Le Pianiste de Varsovie (The Pianist of Warsaw – in French) by the French singer Gilbert Bécaud.

Lyrics in English

I don’t know why
This melody reminds me of Chopin.
I like him, Chopin
I played Chopin well
My home in Warsaw
Where I grew up in the shade
In the shadow of Chopin’s glory
I don’t know why
This melody reminds me of Warsaw.
A place populated by pigeons
An old house with gable
A spiral staircase
And at the very top my teacher
More feeling
More movement
More flights
Much lighter
Play my boy with your heart
He would tell me for hours
First concert in front of the black
I am alone with my piano
And it ends with bravos
Bravos, I’m picking millions of them
At every corner of the horizon
Footsteps that click
Walls that crack
Footsteps on the ground
Falling walls
Why is that?
Crying eyes
Hands that die
Footsteps that hunt
Footsteps that freeze
Why
Is the sky so far away from us?
I don’t know why
But all this reminds me of Warsaw.
A place populated by pigeons
An old house with gable
A spiral staircase
And at the very top my teacher

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

GILBERT FRANCOIS LEOPOLD BECAUD, PIERRE DELANOE – 1956

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s