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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=582773" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>What's Left Behind Of All Our Love</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=582773" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Translation of the song 'Que Reste-t-il De Nos Amours? ' <br>by Charles Trenet </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=582773" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">(I was introduced to this song by Walter Hyatt when we were writing together in Nashville. He performed it once on AUSTIN CITY LIMITS and dedicated it to his high school French teacher. I thought that was so cool! On a trip to Paris I worked on a translation so I could sing it first in French, then English. By the end of the first phrase I'm back at a sidewalk cafe in Paris, sipping espresso and soaking in ambience. I dedicate my translation to my college French professors, Waring McCrady, Jacqueline Schaefer and Scott Bates.) </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=582773" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">What's left behind of all our love, <br>Of those good times, what stays with us, <br>A photograph, faded but true, <br>The days of our youth.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=582773" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">What's left behind of April days, <br>Of tender notes and secret ways, <br>A never ending memory<br>Which follows me.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=582773" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Good times together, <br>Free as a breeze, <br>Stolen kisses, sweet reveries.<br>What's left behind of all of these <br>Tell me please.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=582773" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">A sleepy town, a church bell rings, <br>The simple joy that each day brings, <br>And in a cloud passing so fast...<br>The days of my past.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=582773" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Paris 2001</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=582773" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">(French lyrics) <br>Que reste-t-il de nos amours, <br>Que reste-t-il de ces beaux jours, <br>Une photo, vieille photo de ma jeunesse.<br>Que reste-t-il des billets doux<br>Des mois d'Avril, des rendez-vous, <br>Un souvenir qui me poursuit sans cesse.<br>Bonheur fané, cheveux au vent<br>Baisers volés, rêves mouvants<br>Que reste-t-il de tout cela, dites-le moi? <br>Un petit village, un vieux clocher<br>Un paysage si bien caché<br>Et dans un nuage, le cher visage de mon passé...</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Carol+Elliott">Carol Elliott</a></strong></div>

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