A pigeon landed
On the epaulet
Of the Marshal of France
It decorated
The erected statue
With a gastric offense
Assassin marshals
On your bronze busts
Your superb chests
Your medals are nothing
But pigeon droppings
Of excrement

A child came
To the feet of the statue
Of the Marshal of France
A natural urge
Made him pee against it
But in all innocence
Assassin marshals
The kid, nonchalantly
Has nicely avenged
The children and mothers
That in your dirty wars
You massacred

A bum lay down
One night just at the feet
Of the Marshal of France
Dead drunk in the morning
He vomited his wine
In a huge spray
Assassin marshals
You deserve nothing
Better for your misdeeds
Than this filthy tribute
For all the blood of the world
Shed by your swords

A couple of lovers
Kiss under the eyes
Of the Marshal of France
Silent as an old bonze
He will remain of bronze
Stiff as a lance
Assassin marshals
Love means nothing to you
Except of course the love
Of the Fatherland, alas
That disgusting idea
Which I, in turn, defile

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