Les triplettes de Belleville (The Triplets of Belleville) (Les Triplettes de Belleville)

THE TRIPLETS OF BELLEVILLE

Is the movie over?

Don't you want to tell grandma?

Is the movie over?

We now continue with a musical interlude.

In this 17th stage of the Tour de France

the pack, the machine of muscles and steel, finally gets going.

But before the rubber tests the overheated paving-stones of Marseille,

these young lads still have many obstacles to face.

And a fantastic escape by the yellow jersey,

who devours Klaut and Glutman of the canned food factory from Frankfurt.

They'll have a hard time catching up

on the spot where they already failed miserably last year,

When they really had to bite the bullet.

How admirable this fierce endurance is.

On the face of this great eagle.

The very top lies at an altitude of 1912 metres,

the horrible Ventoux, an impressive scenery

of white desert, under a burning sun.

They climb standing on the pedals,

Constantly watching their gear ratio, It is hell.

But before they reach the finish,

they work themselves into a sweat,

and leave behind that musky smell,

That supporters know so well.

The pack sink into oblivion.