Au Clair De La Lune

© Illustration: Celia Ascenso | Agency: Dreamstime.com

Au clair de la lune

Mon ami Pierrot

Prête-moi ta plume

Pour écrire un mot

Ma chandelle est morte

Je n'ai plus de feu

Ouvre-moi ta porte

Pour l'amour de Dieu

Au clair de la lune,

Pierrot répondit :

« Je n'ai pas de plume,

Je suis dans mon lit.

Va chez la voisine,

Je crois qu'elle y est,

Car dans sa cuisine

On bat le briquet. »

Au clair de la lune,

L'aimable Lubin;

Frappe chez la brune,

Elle répond soudain :

-Qui frappe de la sorte ?

Il dit à son tour :

-Ouvrez votre porte,

Pour le Dieu d'Amour.

Au clair de la lune,

On n'y voit qu'un peu.

On chercha la plume,

On chercha le feu.

En cherchant d'la sorte,

Je n'sais c'qu'on trouva ;

Mais je sais qu'la porte

Sur eux se ferma.

________________________________________

By the light of the moon

My friend Pierrot

Lend me your pen

To write a word

My candle is dead

I have no more fire

Open your door for me

For the love of God

By the light of the moon,

Pierrot replied

I don't have any pen,

I'm in bed

Go to the neighbor's,

I think she's there

Because in her kitchen

Someone is using the lighter

By the light of the moon

likable Lubin

Knocks on the brunette's door

she soon responds

Who's knocking like that?

He then replies

Open your door

for the God of Love!

By the light of the moon

One could barely see

The pen was looked for

The light was looked for

With all that looking

I don't know what was found

But I do know that the door

Was shut behind them.

A phonautograph paper recording made by Martinville of Au Clair de la Lune on April 9, 1860 was digitally converted to sound by American audio historians.
The excerpt of the song is the earliest recognizable record of the human voice and the earliest recognizable record of music.
See more and hear the excerpt here:
Researchers Play Tune Recorded Before Edison

____________________________________

À luz da Lua
meu amigo Pierrot
Empresta-me a tua pena
para escrever uma palavra.
A minha vela apagou-se,
eu já não tenho mais lume.
Abre-me a tua porta,
pelo amor de Deus.

À luz da Lua,
Pierrot respondeu:
"Eu não tenho pena,
estou na minha cama.
Vai a casa da vizinha,
eu acho que ela lá está,
Porque na sua cozinha
acende-se o lume."

À luz da Lua
foi-se Arlequim
Bater à porta da morena.
Ela logo respondeu:
"Quem bate desta maneira?"
Ele diz por sua vez:
"-Abra-me a sua porta,
pelo amor de Deus!"

À luz da Lua
vê-se muito pouco.
Procurava-se uma pluma,
procurava-se lume.
E procurando desta maneira,
não sei o que se encontrou.
Mas eu sei que a porta
atrás deles se fechou.