Текст Celine Dion – En Attendant Ses Pas

En attendant ses pas, je mets la musique en sourdine, tout bas
Trop bete, on ne sait pas, s’il sonnait
Si je n’entendais pas cette fois
En attendant ses pas ce matin-la

While waiting his steps, I put music on mute, very low
Too bad, we don’t know, in case he’d ring
If I would not hear it that time
While waiting his steps that morning
Un soir? Un matin? Un hiver, une aube
Un printemps qu’il choisira
Rien, je n’en sais rien, je mets des lumieres
Les nuits au bord des chemins

A night? A morning? A Winter, a dawn
A Spring he will chose
Nothing, I know nothing of it, I put on some lights
Nights along the roads
En attendant ses bras je peins des fleurs aux portes
Il aimera ca
En attendant le doux temps de ses bras

While waiting his arms I draw flowers on doors
He will like that
While waiting the nice weather of his arms
Et je prends soin de moi, rouge a mes levres, a mes joues
Pour qu’il ne voit pas
Quand trop pale parfois, ne surtout pas
Qu’il me surprenne comme ca

And I take care of myself, red on my lips, on my cheeks
So he will not see
When too pale sometimes, he should certainly not
Surpise me like this

There is some fresh water and some wine
I don’t know which he will chose
I don’t know if he is blond, if he is brown
I don’t know if he is tall or not
But when hearing his voice, I will know
That all his words, all will be for me
While waiting the nice weather of his arms
J’y pense tout le temps a cet instant, oh quand on se reconnaitra
Je lui dirai c’etait bien long, non, je ne lui dirai surement pas
En attendant ses pas, je vis, je reve et je respire pour ca
En attendant juste un sens a tout ca

I’m always thinking about this moment, oh when we will recognize each other
I will tell him it was very long, no, I will certainly not tell him
While waiting his steps, I’m living, I’m dreaming and I’m breathing for that
While waiting just a meaning to all that
Un soir? Un matin? Un hiver, une aube
Un printemps qu’il choisira
Rien, je n’en sais rien, je mets des lumieres
Les nuits au bord des chemins

A night? A morning? A Winter, a dawn
A Spring he will chose
Nothing, I know nothing of it, I put on some lights
Nights along the roads
En attendant ses bras je peins des fleurs aux portes
Il aimera ca

While waiting his arms I’m drawing flowers on doors
He will like that
En attendant juste un sens a tout ca, a tout ca

While waiting a meaning to all that, to all that