(Charles Aznavour) adaptation anglaise Herbert Kretzmer

Yesterday when I was young
The taste of life was sweet as rain upon my tongue.
I teased at life as if it were a foolish game.
The way the evening breeze may tease a candle flame.
The thousand dreams I dreamed, the splending things I planned
I always built alas, on, weak and shifting sand.
I lived by night and shunned the naked light of day
And only now I see how the tears ran away.

Yesterday when I was young
So many drinking songs were waiting to be sung.
So many wayward pleasures lay in store for me
And so much pain my dazzled eyes refused to see.
I ran so fast that time and youth at last ran out
I never stopped to think what life was all about
And every conversation I can now recall
Concerned itself with me and nothing else at all.

Yesterday, the moon was blue
And every crazy day brought something new to do.
I used my magic age as if it were awand
And never saw the waste and emtyness beyond.
The game of love I played with arrogance and pride
And every flame I lit too quickly, quickly died.
The friends I met all seemed somehow to drift away
And only I am left on stage to end the play.

There are so many songs in me that won't be sung
I feel the bitter taste of tears upon my tongue.
The time has come for me to pay for yesterday, when I was young.