I wear the bottom of my trousers rolled
Inside my boots when it rains
Like it's been raining every day
More than it's ever rained they say
But anyway
In the mirror
I can still smile
My yellow-toothed smile
Not all of them mine I confess
As you've no doubt already guessed
But anyway
Blanche, my beautiful Mama
Before she died thirteen years ago next summer
Told me that I was
Une adorable créature
Mama can't be wrong
That's why I sing this song
Une adorable créature I am
And will forever remain.
P.S. I forgot to say thanks to TS Eliot for my opening line. See the last verse of The Love Song of J.Alfred Prufrock if you don't already know it.
16 comments:
Plus one from your mum. That makes two. But who's counting?
Nice to feel that way. Cute pictures. :)
Robbie, merci beaucoup mon ami.
Did you notice how I rhymed mama and summer (summa)?
Rain, your pseudoname suits the current weather perfectly. Have a happy Valentine's day.
Saw the link at Oddball's blog. Love your post. Quite entertaining. Thanks.
Happy anniversary dear Natalie. xx
Perhaps I should correct that to, 'Happy St. Valentine's Day'. mwah! mwah!
Steve, welcome. Glad that Bruce sent you here, sit down and have a cup of virtual coffee with me, or virtual beer if you prefer.
Tom, and a Valentine mwah mwah to you too.
Mama is always right.
Bruce, for this, a late Valentine to you from me: have another slice of that coconut 'pie', if there's any left by now.
Absolutely. You set a good example of how we should all feel about ourselves.
Adorable, right? Thanks Dominic.
Um. I’m certainly not doubting your Mama or her compliment, but surely that should be expressed as “une créature adorable’?
And of course, I’m just being un vieil homme pédant.
Non, mon vieux, you are not un vieux pédant, but my mama was right, there's blues in the night, and une adorable créature is perfectly legit. She was a Parisian, comme moi originally, and we can play around with the lingo.
Thank you for the compliment anyway.
Pardonnez-moi. Je suis désolé pour mon arrogance stupide et naïf.
And there’s the problem in a nutshell, Natalie. Everything principle we tragic students of French learn turns out to have what the books call ‘exceptions’, or we eventually discover from real French people that it’s not really said that way.
Tu n'est pas arrogant ni stupide, Monsieur Figue Hachée! See, you've graduated to Tu instead of Vous so all is well. I'm a native French speaker but since several other languages were imprinted on my infant and adult brain simultaneously, my written grammar in French leaves much to be desired. I'm glad you've turned up here and hope you'll stay.
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