La lune, trop bleme, (the moon, too white) pose un diadème (puts a tiara) sur tes cheveux roux. (on your red hair) La lune, trop rousse, (the moon, too red) de gloire éclabousse (with glory splashes) ton jupon plein de trous. (your ragged underskirt) La lune, trop pâle, (the moon, too pale) caresse l'opale (caress the opal) de tes yeux blasés. (of your indifferent eyes) Princesse de la rue, (princess of the street) sois la bienvenue (be welcome) dans mon coeur brisé. (in my broken heart).
Listening to this, I see a girl about 17 dancing in the rain covered side walks of Paris that are drenched in moonlight, "too white" as a boy who has loved her for years sings about her as she dreams of the World where she is a princess. Barefoot and destitute she hums along with him still swinging in the stars with her dreams and wishes.
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