This is the best song of one of my best friends

and even i don't know "french" i insisted on working on it, and to understand it

an finally i liked it and wish u like it too

thanks

here it is :

A toi

A la façon que tu as d'être belle

A la façon que tu as d'être à moi

A tes mots tendres un peu artificiels

Quelquefois

A toi

A la petite fille que tu étais

A celle que tu es encore souvent

A ton passé, à tes regrets

A tes anciens princes charmants

A la vie, à l'amour

A nos nuits, à nos jours

A l'éternel retour de la chance

A l'enfant qui viendra

Qui nous ressemblera

Qui sera à la fois toi et moi

A moi

A la folie dont tu es la raison

A mes colères sans savoir pourquoi

A mes silences et à mes trahisons

Quelquefois

A moi

Au temps que j'ai passé à te chercher

Aux qualités dont tu te moques bien

Aux défauts que je t'ai caché

A mes idées de baladin

A la vie a l'amour 

A nos nuits, a nos jours 

A l'eternel retours de la chance

A l'enfant qui viendrat 

qui nous ressemblera

qui sera a la fois toi et moi 

a nous 

aux souvenirs que nous allons nous faire

A l'avenir et au present surtout 

A la sante de cette vielle terre 

qui s'en fout 

A nous 

A nos espoirs et a nos illusions

A notre prochain premier rendez-vous

A la sante de ces milliers d'amoureux

Qui sont comme nous

A la vie a l'amour

A nos nuits, a nos jours 

A l'eternel retours de la chance

A l'enfant qui viendrat 

qui nous ressemblera

qui sera a la fois toi et moi

And This the best translation i could get

<>

To you. 
To the manner that you have to be beautiful. 
To the manner that you have to be at me. 
To your words stretch a little artificial. 
Sometimes. 

To you. 
To the granddaughter that you were. 
To the one that you are again often. 
To your passed, to your regrets. 
To your charming former princes. 
To life, to love. 
To our nights, to our days. 
To the eternal return of luck. 
To the child that will come. 
Who will resemble us. 
Who will be at once you and me. 

To me. 
To the madness of which you are the reason. 
To my angers without knowing why. 
To my silences and to my treasons. 
Sometimes. 

To me. 
To the time that I passed to look for you. 
To the qualities of which you make fun of well. 
To the defects that I hid you. 
To my ideas of strolling player. 

To life has love. 
To our nights, has our days. 
To the eternel returns of luck. 
To the child that viendrat. 
Who will resemble us. 
Who will be has the time you and me. 

Has we. 
To the memories that we will be done. 
In the future and to the present especially. 
To the health of this vielle earth. 
Who itself some screws. 

To us. 
To our hopes and has our illusions. 
To our first next appointment. 
To the health of these thousands of lovers. 
Who are as us. 

To life has love. 
To our nights, has our days. 
To the eternel returns of luck. 
To the child that viendrat. 
Who will resemble us. 
Who will be has the time you and me.