Patinette, trottinette, scooter....

Because I had to make a trip out of my dead hole to get two scooters "trottinettes" for my grandchildren who are arriving soon, some simple and touching verses rang a bell!
Twenty five years ago or so our son had to learn this poem and his dad made up a little tune so that he could remenber the words easily.
I was glad that little tune came back to my mind while walking through a noisy Hyper-market submerged by increasing loud music...I mean so-called music which tends to sound worse and worse to my ears. Trash books too are invading the Book-department, enormous display of books about every politician working in the present government...plus books written by journalists about the same ones...plus more books about a famous rock-star who has never appealed to me, interesting all that?????
My deep feeling about this dear poem is that the girls will feel the excitement of it all zooming around on their new "patinette" while we will sing along that little tune on these lines:

Travels
Voyages.

Je voudrais faire des voyages ( I would like to make trips

Aller très vite aller très loin... ( Go very fast go very far....

Je voudrais voir tous les rivages (I would like to see all the shores

Des mers que je ne connais point. ( Of the seas I do not know.

Mais je n’ai qu’une patinette (But all I have is a scooter

Et un petit cheval de bois. ( And a little wooden horse.

Le cheval a mauvaise tête , ( The horse is stubborn,

La patinette fuit sous moi. (The scooter flees beneath me.

Si j’avais une bicyclette, ( If I had a bicycle,

J’irais, dès le soleil levant, ( As soon as the suns rises,

Par les routes blanches et nettes , (Along white and neat roads

J’irais plus vite que le vent (I would go faster than the wind

Si j’avais une automobile, (If I had a car,

Je roulerais au clair matin, (I would drive in clear morning light,

Je roulerais de ville en ville ( I would drive from town to town

Jusqu’aux murailles de Pékin. ( As far as the walls of Peking

Ernest PEROCHON
The writer was a courageous man who stood on his feet against that dreadful Vichy government. He was awarded the Goncourt prize in 1921 for his novel Nêne.
He died of a heart-attack in 1942.
I will try to get hold of the children's books he wrote. I like what I read on the web about his life and commitment.
And this poem 'voyages' was here in my memory, just waiting all these years that two little girls coming soon will try flying on "patinettes' up to the walls of Peking.