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Sheltered by windows and stone parapets
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I watch the people below live
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Every day I envy their life, I who live alone
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But I don't know their story
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I learn their songs, their laughs, their faces
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I can see them but they can't see me
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I'd like, in turn, to meet those characters
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Just one single day, at the foot of the towers
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Way down below, living in the bright sun
Without looking at the sky
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I think they don't hear
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When I see the people below
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Down there, I hear the weavers, the millers and their wives
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Their carefree happiness burns and inflames me
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Their shouts echoing to the heart of Notre-Dame
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Make tears bleed from the core of my soul!
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Down on the banks of the Seine
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I'd taste the joy of the people strolling
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If for one day, just one day
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My turn, to take a walk