One beautiful morning, it's the month of June.
Oh, my love, I'm not very far away.
I held out at least twenty kilometers, hanging behind a hay wagon.
br/>My country is here, this is where I grew up.
My country is here, this is where I left, yes.
This time, I throw my suitcase away.
I recognize a large cherry tree where I was pecking while watching for the farmer
When a great doubt took away my hunger
Little white worms inhabited my feast.
The countryside, that’s how, that’s how I grew up, yes.
The countryside, that’s how, that’s how I left, yes.
br/>This time, I throw my suitcase aside.
Hippolyte!
Behind this field of ripe corn
I relieved myself of a great weight.
A dog wanderer made it his meal.
It's surprising but around here, it's like that.
My country is here, it's here that I grew up.
My country is here, this is where I'm getting married, yes.
This time, I'm throwing my suitcase away.