PAURE SATAN (Occitan) Lo paure Satan es blet Se'n va cuèch* coma un polet Morrà de la macadura Tura lura lura Morrà de la macadura, Lan tan tura lura lura. L'enfant que n'es arribat L'a quasi coma crebat L'a mes en paura postura Tura lura lura Pareitrà plus qu'en pintura**, Lan tan tura lura lura. Fasiá tròp lo sufisent Disiá que non crenhiá ren Mai aquesta cachadura, Tura lura lura Li a balhat de tablatura, Lan tan tura lura lura. Eu fasiá lo grand senhor, Se disiá diable d'onor, A mordut una poma dura, Tura lura lura D'una poma mau madura, Lan tan tura lura lura. Mai Dieu que lo coneis ben E que sap que non vau ren Ven prendre nòstra natura, Tura lura lura Per reparar aquela injura Lan tan tura lura lura. | POOR SATAN Poor Satan is drained, He's as cooked* as a chicken, He'll die from the wounds. Tura lura lura He'll die from the wounds Lan tan tura lura lura. The child who's just arrived Nearly killed him, He put him in a bad position. Tura lura lura We'll only see him in paintings** Lan tan tura lura lura. He was being too self-important, He was saying he feared nothing But this blow, Tura lura lura, Has given him some trouble Lan tan tura lura lura. He was acting like a great lord, He called himself the "devil of honor", He bit a tough apple Tura lura lura An ill-ripened apple Lan tan tura lura lura. But God, who knows him well, And knows that he's worthless, He comes to take human form, Tura lura lura, To mend this insult Lan tan tura lura lura. |