Today I have been listening to this wonderful little obscurity.
Aznavour sings with such expression and despair. The lyric is full of sadness but the song aches with beauty and passion.
One of the songs I want played at my funeral

Yesterday, when I was young,
The taste of life was sweet as rain upon my tongue,
I teased at life as if it were a foolish game,
The way the evening breeze may tease a candle flame

The thousand dreams I dreamed
The splendid things I planned,
I always built, alas, on weak and shifting sand,
I lived by night, and shunned the naked light of day,
And only now I see how the years ran away

Yesterday, when I was young,
So many happy songs were waiting to be sung,
So many wayward pleasures lay in store for me
And so much pain, my dazzled eyes refused to see

I ran so fast that time and youth at last ran out
I never stopped to think what life was all about
And every conversation I can now recall,
Concerned itself with me, me, me and nothing else at all

Yesterday the moon was blue,
And every crazy day brought something new to do,
I used my magic age as if it were a wand,
And never saw the waste and emptiness beyond

The game of love I played with arrogance and pride,
And every flame I lit too quickly, quickly died,
The friends I made all seemed somehow to drift away,
And only I am left on stage to end the play

There are so many songs in me that won't be sung,
I feel the bitter taste of tears upon my tongue,
The time has come for me to pay
For yesterday, when I was young

Young
Young?