You are my validation.
I need your affirmation.
Of my existence.
That I should be who I am.

You are my deliverance.
I need your approval.
Of my being.
That am doing the right thing.

You are my hope.
I need your faith.
Of what I'm able.
That I can achieve destiny.

I have a number of French songs in my Finetune play list. (Check it out it's at the side bar!) One song that struck me was Les Mots, Les Gestes, which means "the words, the gestures" by Hélène Ségara. It's a mellow song. I loved the lyrics so I translated them. MY FIRST FRENCH TRANSLATION!!! Ok, maybe it was another midnight madness, but I hope you enjoy it. And please let me know if there are stuff that were lost in translation.

It took a bit of time for me and yes, I took help of online French-English dictionary as well as Google Translate and Babel Fish but they don't really give good results. They get confused with the feminine/masculine forms, especially when it comes to the possessive stuff. If you're studying French though, I would recommend that you listen to the song. There's a lot of transitive verbs. Of course, I'm completely lost when it comes to 'em transitives. So here are the translated lyrics.

Original (French) Lyrics: E. Aerts Music by: R. Lable Album: "Coeur de verre" (1996)

She writes in her diary
In a school notebook
She writes by the flame
Of a perfumed candle
The secrets of her soul
The hidden feelings she held
It's her invitation to the ball
While life dances on
She writes that it hurts
Draws a heart, the initials
In her diary
She writes about all the wounds
That she had taken for all the promises
The words, the gestures

She writes in her diary
The evening is her juke box
She writes and the sand
Which stabs her in the eye
Then she makes the veils
And sometimes, the day the surprise
Puts down at her table
Among her childhood dreams

She writes that it hurts
Draws a heart, the initials
In her diary
She writes about all the wounds
That she had taken for all the promises
The words, the gestures

She writes in her diary
In a school notebook
She writes by the flame
Of a perfumed candle

She writes that it hurts
Draws a heart, the initials
In her diary
She writes about all the wounds
That she had taken for all the promises
The words, the gestures
The words, the gestures