In the apothecary's accounts
Twenty years is a sum of happiness
My twenty years died in the war
On the other side of the field of honor
If I knew a dog's time, certainly
It is indeed the time of my twenty years
However, I mourn his loss
He is dead, those were the good times
It's always pretty, the time has passed
Once they have broken their pipe
We forgive all those who offended us
The dead are all good guys
In your little hare memory
Becassine, he you remembered
Of our love from the corner of our lips
Nul and void love
Love of a penny that certainly didn't work
Bad ¨ere further than the end of his bed
However, we mourn his loss
He is dead, he is beautified
I put on my darkest outfit
And my burial mask
To lead to the kingdom of shadows
A bundle of old bones
The earth has never produced, certainly
No more consumed rabble
However, we mourn her loss
She is dead, she is embalmed