Ma Jeunesse Fout L' Camp Lyrics in English by Françoise Hardy

Below, I translated the lyrics of the song Ma Jeunesse Fout L' Camp by Françoise Hardy from French to English.
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My youth is slipping away
Throughout a poem
And from one rhyme to another
It goes with arms hanging
My youth is slipping away
To the dead fountain
And the osier cutters
Harvest my twenties
We won't go to the woods anymore
The poet's song
The two-penny chorus
The verses of the hurdy-gurdy
That we sang while dreaming
About the boys at the fair
I forget even their names
I forget even their names
We won't go to the woods anymore
To look for violets
The rain falls today
Erasing our footsteps
Yet the children
Have songs in their heads
But I don't know them
But I don't know them
My youth is slipping away
To the tune of a guitar
It leaves me
Silently, with slow steps
My youth is slipping away
It has broken the mooring
In its hair
Are the flowers of my twenties
We won't go to the woods anymore
Autumn is coming
I'll wait for spring
Plucking away boredom
It won't come back
And if my heart shivers
It's because night is falling
It's because night is falling
We won't go to the woods anymore
We won't go together anymore
My youth is slipping away
To the rhythm of your steps
If only you knew
How much it resembles you
But you don't know
But you don't know
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fout l'camp — is going to waste / is running away

Fout l'camp is an idiomatic expression that literally translates to "fucks off" or "clears out," but in a more nuanced and less vulgar sense, it means "to go to waste," "to run away," or "to disappear."

In the context of Françoise Hardy's song "Ma Jeunesse Fout L' Camp," it beautifully captures the melancholic theme of youth slipping away. It's a vivid and somewhat informal phrase that makes the title memorable and sets the tone for the song's reflective mood about lost time and innocence.

Françoise Hardy's "Ma Jeunesse Fout L' Camp" is a beautiful, melancholic reflection on the passage of youth. It feels like a quiet, personal lament, as if she's watching her younger self slip away like a dream.

She describes her youth leaving "tout au long d'un poème" [all along a poem] and "sur un air de guitare" [to a guitar tune], almost as if it's a gentle melody or a story unfolding. There's a sense of loss for the simple joys, like the songs sung "en rêvant aux garçons de la fête" [dreaming of the boys at the party], which she now forgets. The line "Nous n'irons plus au bois" [We won't go to the woods anymore] is repeated, marking a clear end to a carefree time, with autumn coming and the rain washing away old footsteps. It's a bittersweet song about growing up and leaving behind the innocence of youth, even as she notes how much her youth "te ressemble" [resembles you] to someone she's addressing, who remains unaware.

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