'Chand d'habits

Tell me, 'a bunch of rags
Did you not find
Among the pile of my old clothes
That this morning I reluctantly sold to you?
'A bunch of rags, among them,
Did you find all in tatters,
Sad, pitiful, torn,
A painful heart left behind!
Give it back to me, please, my friend,
That wounded thing...
It's my poor heart... I need it...
Do you think, my old pal, that it's stupid!
When you came at my call
To make the purchase
I thought I wouldn't care as much...

When you left loaded with your sad burden
All my past followed, and I cry...
I cry for my worries, my childhood,
My dear loves that are now just memories...
Give me back my poor heart,
A sad, outdated object...
Sell me back the joy that left me...
Tell me! 'a bunch of rags!...
That poor thing, it was meant for forgetting...
It's my whole life...
Yes...
Tell me, 'a bunch of rags,
Among my old clothes,
Did you not find my poor heart in tatters?...