Cargo Culte Lyrics
Dans la jungle de Nouvelle-Guinée
Ils scrutent le zénith convoitant les guinées
Que leur rapporterait le pillage du fret
Appareil ces créatures non dénuées
De raison ces papous attendent des nuées
L'avarie du Viscount et celle du Comet
A leurs pieds ni Bœing ni même D.C. quatre
Ils rêvent de hijacks et d'accidents d'oiseaux
Qui sacrifient ainsi au culte du cargo
En soufflant vers l'azur et les aéroplanes
Hante-t-il l'archipel que peuplent les sirènes
Ou bien accrochés au cargo dont la sirène
D'alarme s'est tue, es-tu restée
Ces lumineux coraux des côtes guinéennes
Où s'agitent en vain ces sorciers indigènes
Qui espèrent encore des avions brisés
Afin qu'ils me rendent mes amours dérisoires
Moi, comme eux, j'ai prié les cargos de la nuit
Aérien qui me ramènerait Melody
Mineure détournée de l'attraction des astres
know of the the magicians who call to jets In the jungle of New Guinea They scrutinize the zenith coveting the guineas That the pillage of freight would bring them
On the sea of coral in the wake of this Machine those creatures not deprived Of reason those Papuans wait for vapour The wreck of the Vice-count and that of the Comet
And as their totem hasn't ever been able to bring down To their feet neither a Boeing nor even a D.C. four They dream of hijacks and of bird accidents
Those naive shipwreckers armed with blowguns Who sacrifice to the cargo cult By blowing toward the azur and the airplanes.
Where are you Melody and your wrecked body Is it haunting the archipeligo where the sirens live Or well attatched to the cargo plane whose siren Of alarm has become silent, did you stay
Adrift on the currents have you already touched Those bright corals of the Guinean costs Where those indiginous magicians act in vain Who still hope for smashed planes
Having nothing more to lose nor a God in whom to believe, So that they give me meaningless loves I, like them, I prayed to the night cargo planes
And I hold onto that hope of an air Disaster that would bring Melody back to me A minor turned away from the gravity of the stars.
English Translation praise to A. Chabot
A pure marvel. A shinning flake in a gold nugget album. The album is "L'Histoire de Melody Nelson" by Serge Gainsbourg. An albulm considered by many (and not only french) as one of the finest french album ever. You cannot listen to this song apart of its album. It's the final song, the grief song. Melody just died in a plane crash - a night cargo plane - somewhere along the shore of Guinea. The song starts from there (the crash itself is at the end of the previous song). It's an egnimatic song about guineans indigens worshiping their totems and the Boiengs and DC4s (D.C quatre) flying over their heads and throwing
and throwing darts from their blowpipes (srabacanes) expecting to them to wreck and take over the contents and spirit of them. In his grief he prays (Moi, comme eux, j'ai prié les cargos de la nuit) this "cargo culte" in hope it could give him back Melody. The lyrics didn't really make sense to me until I read this page of our good old Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cargo_cult He's so sad that he's ready to believe in a religion that claims that a wrecked plane content can be returned to life (Et je garde cette espérance d'un désastre Aérien qui me ramènerait Melody)