Bow Window
Allain Leprest Lyrics

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Rien ne m'émeut tant
Que toi

Aucune farandole, aucun fildefériste
Pas davantage l'or du toréador triste
Ni la nuit, les cheveux incendiés des comètes
Le cabot famélique au chevet du poète
Cézanne et le pinceau ficelé à ses doigts

{au Refrain, x2}

Ni le dernier accord d'un petit bal perdu
Le marchand de fumée, le café, la statue
Aux seins muets, aux yeux de pierre, au cul superbe
Le cheval qui hennit dans le roulis des herbes
Ni le linge étendu aux antennes des toits

{au Refrain, x2}

Rien des dieux, des volcans, rien de l'Amazonie
Du petit dernier verre et rien de l'infini
Rien des banquises, rien des silex et du sang
Du sexe de la mer, rien du soleil glissant
Dans sa robe de chanvre l'aiguille d'Étretat

{au Refrain, x2}

Overall Meaning

The lyrics to "Bow Window" by Allain Leprest speak to the idea that nothing in the world moves or excites the singer as much as their unidentified "you". They list off various sights and experiences that would typically be considered beautiful or awe-inspiring, such as birds' nests, bridges over Paris, roses, and the paintings of Cezanne. However, none of these things compare to the unnamed subject of the song. The raconteur rejects the grandiosity of nature and artistry, preferring instead to find beauty in the everyday presence of their companion.

Line by Line Meaning

Ni les nids d'oiseaux ni les n'hydravions, les ponts Qui enjambent Paris, ni les roses pompons Du quai des Tuileries, les ombres du Prado Non plus la pluie battant contre les bow-windows Et pas ce pas de porte où le jour s'apitoie
I am not moved by the sights of Paris like the bird nests, boats or bridges, the colorful rose gardens of Tuileries, the shadows of Prado or even the rain hitting the Bow Windows. The doorway where the daylight laments does not move me either.

{Refrain, x2} Je n'aime rien tant Rien ne m'émeut tant Que toi
Nothing touches me as much as you do. I love nothing else more than you.

Aucune farandole, aucun fildefériste Pas davantage l'or du toréador triste Ni la nuit, les cheveux incendiés des comètes Le cabot famélique au chevet du poète Cézanne et le pinceau ficelé à ses doigts
I am not interested in the circus parade, nor the acrobats; not even the suffering of the sad bullfighter or the beauty of the night sky with its blazing tail comets. The sight of a starving dog at the bedside of a poet, or Cézanne with his painting brush tied to his fingers doesn't move me either.

{au Refrain, x2}
I love nothing else more than you.

Ni le dernier accord d'un petit bal perdu Le marchand de fumée, le café, la statue Aux seins muets, aux yeux de pierre, au cul superbe Le cheval qui hennit dans le roulis des herbes Ni le linge étendu aux antennes des toits
Neither the last note of a lost dance music, nor the smoke vendor, the coffee house, or the statue with its silent breasts, stone eyes, and gorgeous rear end. The horse neighing amidst the rolling grass or the laundry hanging on the rooftops don't stir me emotionally.

{au Refrain, x2}
I love nothing else more than you.

Rien des dieux, des volcans, rien de l'Amazonie Du petit dernier verre et rien de l'infini Rien des banquises, rien des silex et du sang Du sexe de la mer, rien du soleil glissant Dans sa robe de chanvre l'aiguille d'Étretat
I am not moved by god, volcanoes, or the Amazon Forest. The small last drop of wine, or the infinity of space does not move me either. The polar ice caps or the combination of stones with blood, the sexual energy of the ocean, or even the sunlight slipping through the hemp-dressed needle at Etretat does not interest me emotionally.

{au Refrain, x2}
I love nothing else more than you.

Contributed by Declan E. Suggest a correction in the comments below.

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