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She (tous les visages de l'amour)(charles aznavour and herbert kretzmer)SheMay be the face I can't forgetA trace of pleasure or regretMay be my treasure or the price I have to payShe may be the song that summer singsMay be the chill that autumn bringsMay be a hundred different thingsWithin the measure of a day.SheMay be the beauty or the beastMay be the famine or the feastMay turn each day into a heaven or a hellShe may be the mirror of my dreamsA smile reflected in a streamShe may not be what she may seemInside her shellShe who always seems so happy in a crowdWhose eyes can be so private and so proudNo one's allowed to see them when they cryShe may be the love that cannot hope to lastMay come to me from shadows of the pastThat I'll remember till the day I dieSheMay be the reason I surviveThe why and wherefore I'm aliveThe one I'll care for through the rough and ready yearsMe I'll take her laughter and her tearsAnd make them all my souvenirsFor where she goes I've got to beThe meaning of my life isShe, she, she
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