À tu ! À iéu !
(Your turn! My turn!)
Nissart lyrics by Jouan Nicola, music by François Mattei. Traditional from County of Nice.

The French original lyrics by Jacques Barjac are not reproduced here. The text given corresponds to the literal translation from the version in Nissart.

First page of the music sheet for À tu ! À iéu ! illustration by Rab.		1st verse
		Souta lou ciel de Nissa, Coura ven Carneval, Cadun courre, s’esquissa Veire lou rei dei fouol ! Au soulèu que dardailla, S’en dounon à plen couor. Chu li laissa li braia, Lisoun perde lou siéu... mouçioar E cadun, tour à tour, Vòu faire lou siéu troubadour.		Beneath the sky of Nice, When comes Carnival, Everyone runs, gets crushed To see the king of the fools! At the sun beating down, They have a tremendous time. Francis leaves there his trousers, Liza loses her... handkerchief And everybody, alternately, Wants to do his troubadour.
		Chorus
		À tu ! À iéu ! E zou... la bousculada ! À tu ! À iéu ! Counfèti à manada ! De fes si manda la man... Agantas un ligouban ! Zim ! Boum ! Pan ! À tu ! À iéu ! E laissan courre lu tavan !		Your turn! My turn! Zoom... the jostle! Your turn! My turn! Confetti in handfuls! Sometimes the hand is sent... You catch a shrimp (1)! Zim! Bang! Whack! Your turn! My turn! And let the horseflies run!
		2nd verse
		La villa s’illumina Coura cala la nuech E si ve Colombina Mé Pierrot mitan cuech. En lu jardin plen d’oumbra S’en van lu amourous E dintre la penoumbra Si souspira de souta vous. En tant sus l’Avenue Es Carneval qu’es revengut.		The town is lit up When night is falling And it is seen Columbine With Pierrot half cooked (2). In the gardens full of shade Are going the lovers And in the darkness It is sighed in a hushed voice. While in the Avenue (3) Carnival came back.
		3rd verse
		Veglioni e redouta Alumon lu fanau. Fen destapà li bouta Per bèure couma de trau. Carnevale si brula Souta lu sarpantéu E la foula circula À gros mouloun souta Castèu. Carneval, noun mouri ! Est’an que ven sian mai aqui !		Veglioni and redoubt Light the lanterns. We make the barrels uncorked To drink as holes. Carnival is burned Under the serpents And the crowd moves By large packs beneath the Castle. Carnival, don’t die! This year that is coming, we will here again!

1. The reader will appreciate the metaphor!
2. Slightly drunk, tipsy, plastered, sloshed.
3. At this time (1947), the procession of Carnival floats flows through the avenue de la Victoire (Victory Avenue), nowadays renamed avenue Jean-Médecin.

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