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