Learn French With Pomme with these 18 Song Recommendations (Full Translations Included!)

Picture the school playground: our narrator has admired Pauline from afar since they were little. Pauline always seemed taller, prettier, effortlessly cool, surrounded by a clique of glamorous girls. Meanwhile the storyteller felt invisible, watching every boy’s gaze glide past her to the magnetic Pauline. This early contrast plants the seed of both fascination and quiet jealousy that runs through the song.

Fast-forward to young adulthood and the stakes are higher. The narrator has finally found a boy who sees her, who makes her heart race… but Pauline’s charm strikes again. She can snap her fingers, turn this boy into a “circus dog,” and then discard him without a second thought. The song becomes a heartfelt plea: “Leave him to me, let someone else taste happiness for once.” Under the catchy melody, Pomme explores deep insecurities, the pain of comparison, and the fear of losing love to someone who seems impossibly perfect yet unknowingly destructive. It is a bittersweet ode to self-doubt, beauty standards, and the hope that kindness will triumph over casual cruelty.

Pomme’s “On Brûlera” is a poetic love pact wrapped in haunting folk-pop. The French singer imagines two soulmates who would rather “burn together in hell” than face a life lived apart. Throughout the song, fiery images of damnation meet the cool embrace of the sea, creating a powerful push-and-pull between destruction and purification. By repeating “Je t’aimerai encore” (I will love you still), Pomme turns their shared demise into a declaration of eternal devotion that defies gods, family, and the world itself.

Behind the dark scenery lies a surprisingly tender message: real love can feel so absolute that it eclipses fear of judgment, pain, and even death. With soft vocals and minimalist instrumentation, Pomme invites listeners to taste the bittersweet thrill of surrendering to someone completely—where the flames, the waves, and the salt are only stages for a love that promises to outlast everything.

Je Sais Pas Danser paints a vivid picture of someone who would rather melt into the shadows than face the glitter of a party. Pomme contrasts blinding lights with a comforting darkness, showing us a narrator who feels exposed the moment she steps outside. Lines about comparing her body and reliving the same nightmare reveal a deep insecurity that makes dancing – a carefree act for many – feel impossible. Each repetition of « des failles » (cracks) is like a flashlight on the little flaws she desperately wants to keep hidden.

Instead of a typical dance-floor anthem, the song flips the script: the chorus “je sais pas danser, je sais pas m’oublier” is an honest admission that sometimes we just cannot let go. By turning vulnerability into melody, Pomme invites listeners to recognize their own moments of self-doubt and to find solace in the idea that opting out can be just as powerful as joining in.

“Grandiose” is Pomme’s bittersweet day-dream about a future that feels both dazzling and out of reach. From the very first line, she confesses an almost visceral desire to carry a child the moment society tells her she “has no right.” That craving becomes a symbol for every other forbidden wish: authentic love, acceptance, a picture-perfect family. While church bells echo and friends insist she is “like everyone else,” the singer can feel she is different. Her voice trembles between hope and frustration, painting the glowing image of a grandiose life that advertising and tradition promise yet never quite deliver.

Beneath the gentle melody lies a quiet rebellion. Pomme exposes the gap between the glossy, pre-planned path—house, partner, children, happily ever after—and the messy reality of discovering your true self. The chorus repeats like a mantra: “Une vie comme ça n’existe pas” (“A life like that does not exist”). It is part lament, part liberation. By the end, the song invites the listener to question hand-me-down dreams and to invent a grandeur that is honest, personal, and unapologetically their own.

À Peu Près is Pomme’s shimmering postcard from a love that felt like pure gold, yet slipped through her fingers. She recalls glowing eyes, whispered je t’aimes, and lofty quotes from French poets Rimbaud and Verlaine. Those memories sparkle, but questions loom: was the dream ever meant to last, or were the dice thrown straight into the fire? The title itself means “roughly” or “approximately,” capturing the hazy state between heartbreak and healing.

Despite the cracks, Pomme’s voice carries a stubborn hope. If she can make it out à peu près intact, she promises to find that special someone again. The song is both a farewell to “pale loves” and an ode to the golden, once-in-a-lifetime feeling she refuses to forget—making it a bittersweet anthem for anyone who believes love can be lost, but never entirely extinguished.

Picture this: winter wraps the world in ice, the nights stretch on forever, and everyone feels the pull of despair. In “Soleil Soleil”, French singer-songwriter Pomme captures that heavy, mid-winter mood yet instantly flips it into an anthem of collective hope. The repeated cry for the soleil (sun) becomes a rallying call: Let’s link arms, count to three, head south, and burn away our pain in the warmth we miss so much. Along the way she warns of the “big bad wolf” of fear and self-doubt, but insists that if we keep our eyes forward we will not lose our balance.

Underneath the dreamy melody lies a powerful message: when the cold seasons of life arrive, we do not have to surrender. Remember next time the snow falls, she sings, we can still walk through the embers and let the dark night hold us. It is both comforting and empowering—a reminder that while winter is inevitable, so is the return of the sun, especially when we face it together.

Pomme’s “J’suis Pas Dupe” is a delicate French folk-pop gem that turns the spotlight on a smooth talker whose fantasies are as dazzling as they are hollow. The singer peers into her lover’s eyes only to discover “les plus beaux mensonges,” blue moons and dried-up seas – poetic images that sound enchanting but ring false. Each lie is like a knot, and while the storyteller keeps spinning bigger tales, the flowers on Pomme’s skirt “fly away,” a whimsical way of showing how empty words blow everything real into the wind.

At its heart, the song is an anthem of clear-eyed self-respect. By repeating “J’suis pas dupe” (I’m not fooled), Pomme refuses to let ego-driven make-believe pass for love. She sends the pretender packing, confident that authentic happiness exists far from such deceit. The result is a light, catchy reminder that recognizing a lie is the first step toward true freedom.

Anxiété is a delicate yet candid chat with the invisible roommate living under our ribs – anxiety. Pomme paints this feeling as a queen of drama: unseen, unheard, but always poised on the brink of tears. It kisses us goodnight when we long for sleep, crawls beside us when we try to outrun it, and drums under our chest to remind us it is still there. By giving anxiety a voice, the song captures how quietly – and completely – it can occupy our lives.

Despite its haunting presence, the track carries a spark of defiance. Each tender plea of va-t-en (go away) shows that recognizing and naming the fear is the first step toward reclaiming space for ourselves. Wrapped in airy folk melodies and Pomme’s gentle vocals, Anxiété turns a universal inner battle into a soothing, relatable hymn that invites listeners to face their own shadow – and gently ask it to take the long way around.

Chanson For My Depressed Love is a delicate lullaby in which French singer Pomme cradles a partner drowning in sadness. She confesses that loving them makes her cry “for the first time,” revealing how deeply their pain touches her own heart. Each line sways between raw vulnerability (“without you my heart aches”) and gentle reassurance as she whispers dors encore — inviting them to keep sleeping until the long night of depression passes and daylight returns.

Although the lyrics paint a world briefly swallowed by darkness, hope glows at the song’s center. Pomme vows to stand guard, offering patience, warmth, and the belief that “tomorrow” will be the day when everything feels right again, when their two bodies will dance at last. In just a few poetic verses, she captures the quiet heroism of loving someone through their lowest moments: staying close, holding space, and trusting that the first rays of morning will eventually break through.

**Pomme turns tears into an ocean in “Un Million”. Behind the gentle folk melody is a quiet rebellion against the rule that says “crying is shameful.” The French singer paints the picture of someone who has been told to keep a stiff upper lip, practicing a poker-face in the mirror every Wednesday, while secretly carrying “a million” swallowed tears. Each verse measures the weight of hidden sadness, then transforms it into vivid images: a swimming pool, a lake, an entire season of rain.

Yet the song is not only about sorrow; it is an invitation to dive in, to “swim in it, cross the feelings, and sometimes talk.” By the final lines, Pomme reassures us: don’t fear touching the bottom. Accepting our deepest emotions is how we stay afloat, and sharing them can turn isolation into connection. In short, “Un Million” is a shimmering reminder that vulnerability is not weakness—it is water, life, and the chance to meet each other somewhere beneath the surface.

Tombeau sweeps listeners into a wistful conversation between Pomme and a loved one who is already half-gone. The other person longs to disappear “as fast as the wind,” leaving only a grave and fading flowers behind. Instead of clinging or pleading, Pomme promises to keep their memories alive: she will revisit the tomb, remember every taste, sound, and scent, and shoulder the stories that the departing soul can no longer tell. In gentle, airy melodies, the song explores the uneasy dance between loss and remembrance, reminding us that everyone must age and vanish, yet memories can bloom where life once stood.

Under the surface, Pomme also offers a strangely comforting freedom. She imagines the runaway spirit melting snow, sleeping in water, and living with animals, suggesting that death—or disappearance—might simply be another shape of life. Tombeau is therefore both elegy and lullaby, teaching English learners (and all of us) that good-byes can hold tenderness, and that holding on does not always mean holding back.

Step into Pomme’s secret garden of memories. Beneath leafy branches and behind childhood staircases, she uncovers strawberries, holiday scents, and the soothing lull of summers past. The song paints a bittersweet postcard where innocence bumps into lurking drama, and where every breeze from the South of France whispers both comfort and unrest.

As she wanders these recollections, Pomme poses a tender question to herself: what could ever top the carefree laughter and sun-drenched days of before? Her voice drifts between nostalgia and reality, admitting that even the sweetest recollections carry a sharp aftertaste. Jardin is therefore a melodic daydream about pursuing the echoes of youth, only to realise that the garden’s beauty is inseparable from the shadows that once hid among the trees.

Welcome to Pomme’s sleepless universe! In Ceux Qui Rêvent ("Those Who Dream"), the French singer invites us to slip under her blanket of insomnia, where the night is anything but peaceful. Stars become tiny pinholes in a black canvas, sheep turn into spooky funeral figures, and the ticking clock at midnight feels like a countdown to an endless mind-marathon. As her thoughts spiral, she compares her racing heart to a wild dance floor and even wonders if science could switch her brain off for a while—anything to escape the cosmic boredom stretching across her bed.

Yet beneath the dark humor and dreamy images lies a tender confession: people who can simply fall asleep and dream are incredibly lucky. For Pomme, night is a restless landscape filled with existential questions, surreal metaphors, and a touch of melancholy poetry. The song paints insomnia as both a curse and a twisted kind of adventure, making us feel the weight of every restless sigh while celebrating the fragile beauty of a mind that just won’t quit.

Jane & John feels like a modern French ballad with a classic outlaw twist. Pomme invites us to meet two lovers whose paths cross by chance, igniting a passion so fierce it blurs the line between a blessing and a curse. The song asks existential questions—Was their meeting fate or accident? Is great love a gentle caress or a brutal blow?—all while painting vivid images of eyes sparkling with joy and the chilling echo of gunshots. Their creed is simple yet devastating: love each other like no one else, love no one else in return.

Behind the poetic lyrics lies a cautionary tale about how absolute devotion can spiral toward tragedy. Pomme contrasts the dazzling fire of first love with the cold silence that follows a single bad turn. By the time the chorus repeats, we sense the inevitable: stories that burn this brightly often end in ashes. The track becomes a reflection on the fragility of destiny and the fine line between a life well lived and one cut short. Listening to Jane & John is like watching a slow-motion movie of passion, danger, and the haunting question, “Was it worth it?”

Picture an endless blue horizon where whales glide like silent giants and human hands stir unseen ripples of danger. In "À Perte De Vue," Pomme turns the ocean into a mirror, reflecting our habit of looking away while magnificent creatures suffer. She sings of hearts sinking to the seabed, of whales that do cry, and of our stubborn belief that their tears do not exist. The song is a gentle yet urgent wake-up call: if we keep pretending, these gentle titans may vanish beyond sight.

With poetic imagery and a fragile voice, Pomme invites us to feel both the wonder and the weight of our choices. The repeated question “Comment parler de ça?” (How can I talk about this?) exposes her struggle to describe the harm we cause while still holding on to hope. Ultimately, the track is a plea for empathy and action, reminding us that saving the giants of the sea also saves a part of ourselves.

Imagine stepping into a majestic tunnel of ancient redwoods, taking the first truly deep breath of your life, and feeling every worry fall away. That is where Pomme begins "Les Séquoias." In this gentle folk-pop meditation, the French singer walks among towering sequoias and sends "two thousand prayers" into the wind, hoping to free herself and the world from past sorrows. The forest becomes a sacred refuge: its rustling leaves sing, its thick sap mingles symbolically with her own blood, and its silence helps her tame the tremble in her voice.

Yet the song is not only about personal healing. Pomme hints at ecological fragility—dry rivers, "assassinated" trees, the fear that everything could be swept away. Her wish to "return to the path" is both a longing for inner peace and a plea to protect the natural sanctuary that made that peace possible. "Les Séquoias" invites listeners to breathe, listen, and remember that saving nature can also mean saving ourselves.

Floating above it all, Pomme’s gentle voice imagines the moment after life has slipped away. In De Là-haut (“From Up There”) she watches her own funeral from the sky: people in summer clothes gather around a cross, lay flowers, whisper words they never dared to say. From this serene height, everything that once felt heavy now looks crystal-clear and almost insignificant. The knot of daily worries is untied, her earthly pain dissolves, and she’s dazzled by “visions inouïes” like a sun that devours the rain.

The song turns grief into comfort. Pomme speaks directly to those below, asking them to dry their tears and sleep in peace, hinting that letting go is easier said than done. Instead of darkness, she paints the afterlife with light, warmth, and wonder, offering a hopeful reminder that perspective can transform sorrow into gentle acceptance. Listen closely and you’ll feel both the ache of goodbye and the quiet freedom of soaring de là-haut—from up above.

From the very first lines, French indie-folk artist Pomme sets a cinematic scene: two exhausted lovers stumble out of a metaphorical cage, breathing rancid air and realizing their anger has burned out. En Cavale captures that surreal instant when a romance finishes not with fireworks but with silence; there is nothing left to say, faces are unreadable, and the pair quietly accepts that they have turned the page.

Love itself becomes a runaway thief that 'stole a year from both of us'. Rather than chasing it, the singer opts for calm surrender, trusting that if the feeling is meant to return it will find them later in life. The result is a bittersweet lullaby about letting go, healing, and giving yourself permission to breathe again, all wrapped in Pomme’s airy vocals and feather-light guitar.