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Mon pays.

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I don't know this sun which burns the sand dunes without end. I don't know any other land but the one that reached my hand. And if one day I leave this place, if I cross the desert to see where my life comes from, in which streets my father played. Me who was born around Paris under this wind, all this rain, I will never forget my country never my country. And if tomorrow like today, I have to go around the world to sing to the world my desires, traveling several years. Me I am born around here even if I leave my friends I will never forget my country. Too many memories embedded, in school yards and summers, too much love to forget that it was here that I was born. Too much time spent on the benches of my city, too many friends to forget that it was here that I was born, that it was here that I was born! I d'know this perfume of mint and of burning sand but only the waves under of the rolling ocean. And you who find me a little pale for these streets bordered with prairies, a little too white, color of the Euphrates for these poems that I've learned you are the only one that I forget, just like the faithful star to the night sky. I will never forget my country, never my country. Too many memories embedded, in school yards and summers too much love to forget that it was here that I was born. Too much time spent on the benches of my city, too many friends to forget that it was here that I was born, that it was here that I was born! And just like you, I wait for rain to tell her of all my pains, just like you I smile to her when she falls on the plain, when she falls on the plain. Too many memories embedded, in schoolyards and summers, too much love to forget that it was here that I was born. Too much time spent on the benches of my city, too many friends to forget that it was here that I was born, that it is here that I was born! Too many memories embedded, in schoolyards and summers, too much love to forget that it was here that I was born here. Too much time spent on the benches of my city, too many friends to forget that it was here that I was born here.

Video Details

Duration: 3 minutes and 44 seconds
Country: Spain
Language: French (France)
Views: 166
Posted by: anitafrances on Nov 20, 2010

Faudel. Immigration et identité française.

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