As far as I know the Slawic languages are relativelly young and had been developed in the Ukraine in the region Kiev around the sixth century. At this time we had trade relations with this region and Scandinavians had a trading post there called "Rus".
French also is a very young language and I guess it is more or less a product of the influence of the Frankonian (German) Charlesmagne. Charlesmagne was not able to read and to write but he spoke fluently Latin. He preferred this language as the "lingua franka" (that's why the expression "lingua franka" exists at all) in his "holy empire", the Frankonian empire (later a part of it will be called "holy empire"). Meaning: Not any language has to be suppressed - everyone should speak the own language - but in communication with others Latin should be used as a common language between all this different nations/ethniticies/folks/tribes - however you like to call them. In France this leaded to a process which melted this mediterranian language with the Germanic language of the Franks and the Celtic language of the older cultures there into the common language French - one of the most beautiful languages of the world.
Christine, ma belle, ma douce, ma jolie!
Je chante pour elle et pour elle je ris!
Elle est tendre et sauvage, elle est comme un torrent
Qui me berce et m'enztaîne, elle est comme le vent
Ell est comme le vent qui joue dans mes cheveux
Capricieuse et changeante, elle est comme le feu
Qui brûle ma mémoire, je ne sais qui je suis
Christine, ma belle, ma douce, ma jolie!
Si je ne sais pas qui dirige l'univers
Si je ne sais pas pourquoi tourne la terre
Je sais bien cependant, que serré dans ses bras
Je frémis comme frémissent les cordes sous mes doigts!
J'ai perdu la mémoire, l'orgueuil, l'assurance
J'ai perdu le sommeil, la tête et la patience!
Mais ce que j'ai perdu ne pèse pas bien lourd:
J‘ai perdu avec joie, pour gagner son amour!
Je me ferais noble pour lui faire plaisir
Je deviendrais sage, gendarme ou fakir
Ou pompier ou ministre et si elle veut bien
Je reste qui je suis et ne deviendrai rien
Je changerais pour elle mes anciennes opinions
Et je ferais des siennes mes nouvelles convictions!
Je lui cèderais tout, mais lui refuserais
Si elle me demandait de cesser de l'aimer
Christine, ma belle, ma douce, ma jolie!
Je chante pour elle et pour elle je vis!
Elle est tendre et sauvage, elle est comme un torrent
Qui me berce au rivage, qui m'entraine en riant
Elle est douce, elle est tendre, et moi, je l'aimerai
Cent mille ans et trois jours, jusqu'à la Saint-Jamais!
Et tant pis si demain je meurs au point du jour:
J'aurai vécu dans ses bras plus de mille ans d'amour!
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Christine, my beautiful, my sweet, my pretty!
I sing for her and I laugh for her!
She's tender and wild, she's like a torrent
That rocks me and entices me, she's like the wind
She's like the wind that plays in my hair
Capricious and changeable, she's like the fire
That burns my memory, I don't know who I am
Christine, my beautiful, my sweet, my pretty!
If I don't know who rules the universe
If I don't know why the earth turns
But I do know that clasped in her arms
I tremble as the strings quiver beneath my fingers!
I've lost my memory, my pride, my confidence
I've lost my sleep, my head and my patience!
But what I've lost doesn't weigh much:
I lost with joy, to win her love!
I would make myself noble to please him
I'd become wise, a gendarme or a fakir
Or fireman or minister, and if she pleases
I'd stay who I am and become nothing
I would change my old opinions for her
And make hers my new convictions!
I'd give her everything, but refuse her
If she asked me to stop loving her
Christine, my beautiful, my sweet, my pretty!
I sing for her and I live for her!
She's tender and wild, she's like a torrent
That lulls me to the shore, that drags me laughing
She's sweet, she's tender, and I'll love her
A hundred thousand years and three days, until St. Never!
And never mind if tomorrow I die at dawn:
I'll have lived more than a thousand years of love in her arms!
Translated with DeepL.com (free version)