Comme surgie du fond des âges,
Immobile dans son voyage,
Mosaïque de sang et d'or,
Venise a posé le décor.
Tout est pour l'?il dans ce théâtre :
Les eaux noires et les murs d'albâtre,
Illusion, lumières et fontaines.
Tout est là pour la mise en scène.
Dans l'écrin du soleil couchant,
Les palais et les goélands
Rivalisent de poésie
Pour ouvrir le bal de la nuit.
A l'heure ou les ombres se glissent,
Il flotte encore dans les ruelles
L'atmosphère étrange et cruelle
De Lucrèce et des Médicis
Mais déjà le soleil se lève.
Le rideau s'ouvre sur le rêve
Et c'est là que la ville explose
De violet, de vert et de rose
Sous les masques des farandoles,
Dans le glissement des gondoles,
La symphonie des mousselines
Des guitares et des mandolines.
C'est la foule qui vous emporte
Au hasard des ponts et des portes,
Ivre de liesse et de folie.
Mon Dieu que Venise est jolie.
Sous le ciel des balcons fleuris
Où l'on voit tourner les enseignes
Et dans le désordre qui règne,
Venise alors a du génie.
Puis le tableau reprend sa place.
Peu à peu, la folie s'efface.
Juste une effluve de fanfare,
Quelques rires, un pas qui s'égare.
On entend les pontons gémir.
C'est l'hiver au pont des Soupirs.
Un bateau s'en va vers les îles.
Les heures s'égrènent au Campanile.
A Venise, rien n'a changé.
Même les siècles ont beau laisser
Des lézardes aux murs des maisons,
Jamais le temps n'a eu raison
Ni des fastes du carnaval,
Ni des pierres ou des Bacchanales,
De Vérosène ou du Titien,
Ni des lustres en cristal ancien
Et déjà le soleil du rêve,
Sur Venise, à nouveau, se lève.
A nouveau, les façades explosent
De violet, de vert et de rose
Sous les masques des farandoles,
Dans le glissement des gondoles,
La symphonie des mousselines
Des guitares et des mandolines.
C'est la foule qui vous emporte
Au hasard des ponts et des portes,
Ivre de liesse et de folie.
Mon Dieu que Venise est jolie.
Sous le ciel des balcons fleuris
Où l'on voit tourner les enseignes
Et dans le désordre qui règne,
C'est l'enfer ou le paradis
Qui vous mène au bout de la nuit.
Venise alors a du génie.
Yves Duteil is a French singer-songwriter born in Paris in 1946. Active since 1970, he has captivated the French audience with his melodic pop music and often introspective lyrics. Among his most famous songs are "Tarentelle", "J'ai la Guitare Qui Me Demange" and "L'Ecritoire". Duteil is known for his ability to blend folk, chanson française and pop elements, creating a unique and recognizable sound. He has collaborated with numerous French artists, including Alain Souchon and Michel Berger. Over the course of his career, he has released over 20 albums, some of which have become gold and platinum records.
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