Фредерик Бегбедер - Самый грустный человек - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

There are places in Paris in winter where it is somehow especially cold. No matter how much you drink strong drinks, it seems as if a snowstorm is blowing right through the bars. An ice age is coming. Even in the crowd the beater gets through.

I did everything right: I was born into a good family, studied at the Montaigne Lyceum, then at the Louis the Great Lyceum, received higher education at institutes where I moved among intelligent people; I invited them to dance, there were also those who gave me work; I married the most beautiful girl I know. Why is it so cold here? At what point did I make a mistake? I only wanted to please you, and it wasn’t so difficult for me to comply. Why don't I have the right to live like everyone else? Why, instead of the simple happiness with which I was lured, did I get only difficulties and frustration?

I'm a dead man. I wake up in the morning, and I unbearably want one thing - to sleep. I dress in black: I mourn for myself. Mourning for the man he did not become. I walk like an automaton along the Rue des Arts - the street where Oscar Wilde died, just like me. I go to a restaurant where I don’t eat anything. The head waiters are offended that I don’t touch the dishes. Have you seen a lot of dead people finishing hot food and licking their lips? That is, everything I drink, I drink on an empty stomach. What's good: I get drunk quickly. What's bad: I get a stomach ulcer.

I don't smile anymore. This is beyond my strength. I'm dead and buried. I won't have children. Dead people do not produce offspring. I'm a dead man shaking hands with people I know in a cafe. A very sociable dead man and very cold. I'm probably the saddest person I've ever met in my life.

In winter in Paris, when the temperature drops below zero, people desperately need little rooms in the back of the cafe, where the lights are on all night. There, huddled in a herd so that no one can see, you can finally begin to tremble.