Learn French With Yannick Noah with these 15 Song Recommendations (Full Translations Included!)

Yannick Noah
LF Content Team | Updated on 2 February 2023
Learning French with Yannick Noah's music is fun, engaging, and includes a cultural aspect that is often missing from other language learning methods. It is also great way to supplement your learning and stay motivated to keep learning French!
Below are 15 song recommendations by Yannick Noah to get you started! Alongside each recommendation, you will find a snippet of the lyric translations with links to the full lyric translations and lessons for each of the songs!
CONTENTS SUMMARY
Ensemble Demain (Together Tomorrow)
Oye, oye, oye, oye
Elle nous a donné tous les signes
Les feux, les orages et les pluies
Elle nous a dit je suis fragile
Oye, oye, oye, oye
She gave us all the signs
Fires, storms and rains
She told us I'm fragile

Ensemble Demain feels like a giant musical wake-up call: Yannick Noah turns Mother Earth into the lead character of his song, letting her speak through feux, orages et pluies to remind us she is both le jour and la vie, yet incredibly fragile. Every rousing “hey ho” is an alarm clock that shakes us out of complacency and pulls us onto the dance floor of ecological responsibility. The beat is upbeat, the chorus is catchy, but the message is crystal clear – our planet is pleading for a breather, and it is up to us to listen.

The song bursts with hope as well as urgency. Noah tells us there is still time, the story is not over, and tomorrow belongs to the children, so we must se réinventer together. By repeating “Ensemble demain, ensemble plus loin”, he invites everyone to link arms across generations and borders, swap gloom for action, and rebuild a future where our “maison-mère” can flourish. It is an anthem of collective renewal, reminding us that the Earth can absorb our darkest ideas if we choose to believe, act, and step forward as one. Let the rhythm move you – and then move you to action.

La Vie C'est Maintenant (Life Is Now)
J'ai vu la mer au creux des vagues, ça n'allait pas
Le coeur serré coulaient les larmes, ça n'allait pas
J'ai fait la guerre aux vagues à l'âme, sous l'eau, soulé d'être comme ça
J'ai vu la Terre tourner sans moi, ça n'allait pas
I saw the sea in the hollow of the waves, it wasn't going well
With a heavy heart, tears were flowing, it wasn't going well
I waged war on the waves of the soul, underwater, fed up with being like this
I saw the Earth turning without me, it wasn't going well

Life is right here, right now! In this uplifting anthem, former tennis-champion-turned-singer Yannick Noah dives into a moment of deep sadness where he feels swallowed by the waves and left behind by the spinning world. Just when gloom seems to win, a trusted friend reaches out, urging him to “change the air, make room for light.” That spark of friendship turns the tide, reminding him that pain is temporary and courage can be shared.

The chorus bursts open like sunshine after rain: “La vie c’est maintenant” – life is now. No time for regrets, no room for bitterness; instead, dream bigger, blast away the hurt and pour your heart into every second. The song celebrates true camaraderie: speak up when things feel good, lean on each other when they do not, and keep your head in the clouds of possibility. Noah’s message is simple yet powerful — seize today, love loudly, and face the future with a fearless grin.

Baraka
Elle avait toujours au coin de la bouche
Ce petit sourire qui faisait mouche
Elle laissait le vent emporter tout
Les soucis, les remous
She always had on the corner of her mouth
That little smile that hit the mark
She let the wind carry everything away
The worries, the turmoil

Baraka is a feel-good hymn to la chance – that spark of luck and positive energy that sweeps in when you least expect it. The singer begins heavy-hearted and fearful, until a bright-eyed woman with a knowing smile steps into his life at the corner of his street. She embodies “Baraka,” gently repeating "compte sur moi" (“count on me”) and proving that every hurt hides a joy. Her presence lightens his days, smooths his worries, and leaves him squinting happily in the sunlight.

But luck is playful: it slips away, then reappears just as hope is fading. When the singer’s world turns bleak again, his Baraka returns, reminding him – and us – that comfort, faith and little miracles circle back when we stay open-hearted. With its warm groove and reassuring lyrics, Yannick Noah’s song invites listeners to trust life’s rhythms, cherish supportive souls, and believe that blessings can always find their way home.

On Court (One Runs)
On court, on dort
On court, on se réveille
Le temps court encore
On est à cours de sommeil
We run, we sleep
We run, we wake up
Time is running out
We are short of sleep

In “On Court” – French for "We run" – Yannick Noah paints a lively portrait of modern life as an endless sprint. We dash to work, leap onto trains, chase love and money, and keep the clock spinning until we forget where the brakes are. The repetition of on court (we run) mirrors the hamster-wheel rhythm of our days, while child-like images ("comme des gosses") reveal how lost we feel in the rush.

Suddenly, Noah changes the beat with a warm invitation: "Venez on s'arrête"Come, let’s stop. Close your eyes, watch the sea, gaze at the sky, walk back the way you came, then drop everything and dance. The song turns into an uplifting reminder that time is precious only when we choose to live it, not chase it. With breezy reggae-pop vibes and a smile in his voice, the former tennis champion urges us to slow down, breathe, and rediscover joy in the simple act of standing still.

Ma Colère (My Anger)
Ma colère n'est pas amnésique
Ma colère n'est pas naïve
Ma colère aime la République
Mais en combat toutes les dérives
My anger is not amnesic
My anger is not naive
My anger loves the Republic
But fights all the abuses

Yannick Noah turns anger into a rallying cry in Ma Colère, channeling the fiery energy of protest into a message of unity and hope. Instead of glorifying rage for its own sake, the French artist paints his anger as civic, lucid, and deeply patriotic, loyal to the ideals of the Republic while loudly rejecting any extremist drift. His “colère” refuses hatred, shuns lies, and stands on the side of justice, tolerance, and intelligence. It is an anger that remembers, that believes, and that dares to draw a clear line between a noble cause and harmful consequences.

The chorus reminds us that this anger is not a nationalist front but a human response to fear, prejudice, and injustice. Vulnerable yet courageous, Noah’s indignation stands defenseless yet unwavering, armed only with hope and the honorable duty of confronting the anger of those who sow division. Ma Colère invites listeners to recognize that righteous outrage can be a positive force when it defends openness, empathy, and shared humanity.

Viens (Come)
Gamin, écoute, faut que tu saches
On est soit voleur soit volé
Et chacun se tue à la tâche
Qu'on soit la base ou le sommet
Kid, listen, you need to know
We're either thieves or stolen from
And everyone kills themselves at work
Whether at the base or the top

Yannick Noah’s “Viens” is half street-wise pep talk, half sun-splashed rallying cry. Speaking to a young listener (“Gamin”), the singer paints a picture of a harsh world where you are either “voleur” (thief) or “volé” (robbed), where money and ego rule the game, and where people bow their heads or shut their eyes to survive. Yet instead of giving in to cynicism, Noah invites the kid - and all of us - to look up, notice the women and men who keep swimming and dancing contre-courant (against the current), and join the rhythm of resistance.

“Viens” means “Come along.” It is a call to widen our circle of solidarity: “Y a pas que ton frère qui est ton frère… y a pas que ta sœur qui est ta sœur.” In other words, true brothers and sisters are found in spirit, not just in blood. By urging us to dance in the wind, the song flips struggle into celebration, turning social critique into a feel-good anthem that reminds learners and listeners alike that hope, courage, and community are stronger than the toughest current.

Ça Me Regarde (That's My Business)
Est-ce que je peux fermer les paupières
Toute une vie jusqu'au cimetière
Est-ce que je peux ouvrir ma porte
Uniquement pour que je sorte
Can I close my eyelids
A whole life until the cemetery
Can I open my door
Only for me to go out

Yannick Noah’s “Ça Me Regarde” is a wake-up call wrapped in a sunny reggae-pop groove. The singer playfully asks if he can keep his eyes shut “all his life until the cemetery,” or pretend it never rains on his sidewalk. With these cheeky questions, Noah shines a light on how easy it is to hide behind our own comfort. Every time the chorus repeats Ça me regarde (“That’s my business”) he flips the phrase on its head: caring about others is our business.

The second half of the song widens the lens. Noah lists everyone who gets “splashed” by life’s troubles — “the clever, the little people, the weak and the great, yellow and white, black and red, and everything that moves.” His message is simple yet powerful: real happiness is incomplete if only “our own” enjoy it, and the most beautiful love song is the one sung when people rush to help each other. “Ça Me Regarde” turns empathy into a catchy anthem, urging listeners to open their doors, open their eyes, and recognize that what affects one of us truly affects us all.

Frontières (Borders)
Je vous parle d'un monde qui n'existe pas
Un monde où les frontières ne diviseraient pas
La moindre différence comme ultime richesse
Sans barrière, sans bannière, inutiles forteresses
I'm talking to you about a world that doesn't exist
A world where borders wouldn't divide
The slightest difference as the ultimate wealth
Without barriers, without banners, useless fortresses

Imagine tuning your radio and suddenly stepping into a bright, border-free playground: that is exactly where Yannick Noah takes us in Frontières. Singing over a sunny reggae-pop groove, the French artist paints a picture of one single planet where passports are pointless and every “difference” is treated as treasure. He invites us to share the same sun, the same rainbow, the same hope, reminding us that—seen from the sky—there are no lines cutting the Earth into pieces.

But Noah is not just day-dreaming. He flips the microphone toward us, asking whether this vision is a childish fantasy or the lifelong battle we are ready to fight. The choice is ours: cling to the “tenebres” of fear or redraw the maps with love. Frontières is both a lullaby and a rallying cry, urging listeners to erase the walls in their heads and hearts so a brand-new world can unfold.

Destination Ailleurs (Destination Elsewhere)
On laisse nos chaussures au placard
Et on prend la guitare
Un cd de Marley
On laisse les enfants aux parents
We leave our shoes in the closet
And we grab the guitar
A Marley CD
We leave the kids with their parents

Kick off your shoes, grab a guitar, and pop in a Bob Marley CD – Yannick Noah’s Destination Ailleurs is a joyful call to drop the everyday hustle and run away with someone you love. The lyrics paint a spontaneous getaway where babysitters handle the kids, phones and TV are switched off, and the only plan is to chase “the best” wherever the road leads. It is a soundtrack for rolling the windows down, letting the city fade, and feeling the thrill of unlimited freedom.

At its heart, the song is about carving out a pocket of time – a month, a day, even just an hour – to reconnect, breathe, and explore. “All is allowed,” Noah repeats, turning Destination ailleurs into a mantra that gives you permission to unplug and dream. Whether you leave Paris or just your living room, the message is clear: the real voyage is the shared moment of escape and the promise of going “even further” together.

Donne-Moi Une Vie (Give Me A Life)
De tous les ailleurs et d'ici
Les mendiants du Pérou
Les gosses à la colle de Manille
Monte une voix
From all the elsewhere and here
The beggars of Peru
The kids sniffing glue in Manila
Rises a voice

Donne-Moi Une Vie is like a musical postcard from every corner of the planet. Yannick Noah strings together scenes that span from the streets of Lima to the alleys of Moscow, from the markets of Gaza to the rooftops of Bali. Each location brings its own heartbreaking image — children sniffing glue, young girls trafficked, families trapped in war zones — yet all these different voices blend into one universal chorus asking for the same thing: “Give me a life.” Rather than dwelling only on suffering, the song turns pain into a stirring, almost anthemic plea for dignity, hope, and the simple right to dream.

At its core, the repeated request for “quelque chose à perdre” (something to lose) flips the usual idea of security on its head. Having something worth losing means you finally possess a future, memories, loved ones, and the freedom to age peacefully. Noah’s melody uplifts this plea, pairing raw realism with a beat that makes listeners want to sway and join the chant. The result is a song that is both a global SOS and an energizing rallying cry, reminding us that the most basic human wish — to truly live rather than merely survive — transcends borders, languages, and cultures.

Aux Arbres Citoyens (Citizens Trees)
Le ciment dans les plaines
Coule jusqu'aux montagnes
Poison dans les fontaines
Dans nos campagnes
The cement in the plains
Flows to the mountains
Poison in the fountains
In our countryside

Imagine trading battle cries for a forest of raised fists made of branches. That is the spirit of “Aux Arbres Citoyens,” where Yannick Noah flips the French Revolution’s slogan “Aux armes, citoyens” into a green call to action. He paints a vivid picture of a planet drowning in concrete, poisoned fountains, and cyclones that rewrite our history books. The song shouts that buying “air in cans” with petrodollars is absurd, and that humans are only temporary squatters on Earth. With catchy rhythms and sharp images, Noah rallies everyone to stand tall like an “army of reeds,” ready to protect the only home we have.

The chorus is a megaphone urging immediate change: “Aux arbres, citoyens ! Il est grand temps qu’on propose un monde pour demain !” No more pointing fingers, no more waiting for luck. Side by side, the singer believes we can build a fairer, cleaner future. The track blends optimism with urgency, turning eco-anxiety into collective empowerment. By the end, you feel ready to swap excuses for seeds and march toward a tomorrow where every voice—and every tree—counts.

Mon Eldorado (My Eldorado)
Je respire, je revois mes espoirs d'avant
Je repars jusqu'à dire je peux remonter le temps
Comme ému au début au tout premier cri
Je sais ce qui me suffit
I breathe, I see my past hopes again
I start over until I say I can turn back time
Like moved at the beginning at the very first cry
I know what is enough for me

“Mon Eldorado” is Yannick Noah’s radiant day-dream about finding paradise in everyday love. As he inhales and looks back on old hopes, he realises that he doesn’t need to literally turn back time to feel reborn. All it takes is du soleil—sunshine that seems to pour from the sky—and the comforting presence of someone special. Their touch becomes his personal Eldorado, a golden land hidden not across oceans but “au creux de ta peau,” in the curve of a lover’s skin.

The chorus repeats like warm waves: sunshine, a heart stuck in summertime, and life flowing freely “comme l’eau, comme l’air.” Noah lists these simple elements—light, warmth, tenderness—as if ticking off supplies for happiness. The message is clear and upbeat: real treasure isn’t fame or fortune, it’s the natural, gentle things that slowly turn vital to us. With its breezy rhythm and vivid imagery, the song invites listeners to breathe deeply, soak up the light, and recognise the gold they already hold in their own everyday moments.

Les Lionnes (The Lionesses)
Porte l'eau
Porte la vie
Du ciel à ton seau
Le jour et la nuit
Carry the water
Carry life
From the sky to your bucket
Day and night

Les Lionnes invites us to walk the dusty paths of a sun-scorched land where women stride with buckets of water balanced on their heads. Yannick Noah turns their daily chore into a heroic quest: the water they carry is “gold in their hands,” a fragile treasure that keeps villages alive. With every step, the earth grows more tired, yet these women keep moving, shoulders bent, spirits unbroken.

In the chorus Noah crowns them “lionesses” – proud queens whose love flows freely and is never taken back. The blazing sun may exhaust them, but their determination restores hope and life to everyone around them. By the end of the song, the message is clear: these women are the quiet guardians of both land and humanity, proving that true royalty is found in resilience, compassion, and everyday courage.

Le Même Sang (The Same Blood)
Un ange est tombé, un autre passe
Une page est tournée, même si rien ne s'efface
Quelle est ta blessure, où est la mienne
Y a-t-il des douleurs qu'on mesure, qui s'apprennent
An angel has fallen, another one passes
A page is turned, even if nothing erases
What is your wound, where is mine
Are there pains that we measure, that are learned

Le Même Sang is Yannick Noah’s musical reminder that beneath our different stories flows the same blood. The song opens with images of fallen and passing angels, hinting that life keeps turning its pages even when scars remain. Noah then zooms in on our common wounds and victories, asking listeners to recognise that hurt and healing are part of everyone’s journey.

With a catchy, repeating list of everyday actions—I live, I cry, I walk, I dance—the chorus turns into a joyful roll call of human experience. Whether we win or lose, doubt or believe, please or disturb, we share the same pulse. The message is simple yet powerful: acknowledge your neighbour’s struggles, celebrate their triumphs, and remember that we are all connected by one beating heart.

Angela
Dix neuf cent soixante huit, l'Amérique est figée
Un ange proteste, les écrous sont rouillés
le souffle des ghettos
Les gants noirs se lèvent un soir à México
Nineteen sixty-eight, America is frozen
An angel protests, the nuts are rusted
the breath of the ghettos
Black gloves rise one evening in Mexico

Angela takes us on a whirlwind trip through modern history, starting in 1968 America at the height of the Civil Rights Movement. Yannick Noah name-checks powerful images: the raised Black Power fists at the Mexico Olympics, the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., the haunting photo of a napalm-burned child, and the relentless pursuit of the Black Panthers. Through all this turbulence shines one figure of hope and resistance, the American activist Angela Davis. The chorus, half in English, turns Angela into a universal sister, promising, “My home is your home, you’ll never walk alone.”

Fast-forward to November 2008 in Chicago, when Barack Obama’s election signals a new chapter for the United States. Noah links Angela’s long fight for justice to this historic night, suggesting that every step toward equality carries her spirit. The song blends French verses with an English refrain, just as it blends past and present, reminding listeners that courage and solidarity can echo across decades—and across languages—until real change arrives.

We have more songs with translations on our website and mobile app. You can find the links to the website and our mobile app below. We hope you enjoy learning French with music!