There are hearts of stone softened by love,
That keep their silence in the brightness of day.
Aimé steps forward on the thirteenth day of autumn,
With a kind gaze where honesty resounds.

He has split the stone and braved the ravine,
To offer the water of truth to the passing stranger.
He is the hermit of the peaks, the watcher of the firs,
Who shares without disguise his shelter and his bread.
Yet beneath the gentleness of a brotherly hand,
Burns a will of bronze and a spark that never dies.

For Aimé is the foundation where the heart finds rest,
A welcoming strength that dissolves all fear.
He is a body of flame with a measured gaze,
A haven of nobility among the forests.

Tomorrow, let us raise our glasses to this name of truth,
To the lifeblood of love, to proud and fearless courage.
For all the Aimés, the tender, the loving,
May the celebration be sincere, beneath the will of the elements.

There are sons of dawn with temperaments of fire,
Who reject the ashes and the treachery of games.
Apollinaire steps forward on the twelfth day of autumn,
His gaze filled with light where courage resounds.

He has defied exile and the blazing pyre,
Never renouncing the strength of his own voice.
He is the singer of dawn, the master of clarity,
Who chooses passion over cowardly ways.
Yet beneath the fervour of a fearless flame,
Burns a tender lifeblood, a greatness without measure.

For Apollinaire is the bow drawn toward the zenith,
An arrow of strength that no night can evade.
He is bronze in flesh, warmed by the light of day,
A radiant call to life, to love.

Tomorrow, let us raise our glasses to this name of clarity,
To the strength of the spoken word, to proud dignity.
For all the Apollinaires, the ardent, the loving,
May the celebration be sincere, beneath the will of the elements.

There are hearts of stone beneath the sheltering firs,
That know how to share the sweat and bread.
Adelphe steps forward on the eleventh day of autumn,
With an upright gaze where the mountain echoes.

He has calmed the turmoil and the silent disputes,
Holding friendship high when the hour grows heavy.
He is the master of the peaks, the healer of troubled souls,
Who never bends beneath the mountain winds.
Yet beneath the bearing of a solitary wanderer,
Vibrates a noble lifeblood, a love for the earth.

For Adelphe is the ally in the midst of battle,
The brother in the trenches who strengthens every step.
He is bronze in flesh, weathered by the forest,
A frank handshake for hearts that cannot be tamed.

Tomorrow, let us raise our glasses to this name of steadfastness,
To brotherhood, to true greatness.
For all the Adelphes, the steadfast, the loving,
May the celebration be sincere, beneath the will of the elements.

There are clear eyes where the ocean trembles,
That face bare steel without ever lowering their gaze.
Inès steps forward proudly on the tenth day of autumn,
Her brow pure and fearless, bowing to no crown.

She has opened her door to those cast out by the night,
Offering the shelter of a heart where fear disappears.
She is the rebel of shadows, the flame of Nagasaki,
Who refuses the yoke and honours that betray the soul.
Yet beneath the softness of an ivory grace,
Burns an indomitable fire in the heart of darkness.

For Inès is the brilliance of an untarnished lifeblood,
A steadfast strength that no torment can tear away.
She is a body of embers with a sovereign smile,
A breath of nobility rising above destiny.

Tomorrow, let us raise our glasses to this name of elegance,
To loyalty, to proud and fearless courage.
For all the Inès, the pure, the loving,
May the celebration be beautiful and the night tremble with life.

There are riders with eyes fixed upon the horizon,
Who keep their balance through the turning seasons.
Alain steps forward on the ninth day of autumn,
His brow crowned with clarity, bowing to no throne.

He has crossed the moors and the mists of the North,
Holding his word high, never bargaining with effort.
He is the instinctive wanderer, the master of speech,
Who rejects illusion and sweeps away false idols.
Yet beneath his composure and measured bearing,
Burns a passionate fire, a spirit that will not be tamed.

For Alain is the harmony of lifeblood and a cry,
The balance of courage in the heart of night.
He is bronze in flesh, weathered by the great wind,
A lordly bearing with a heart among the foremost.

Tomorrow, let us raise our glasses to this name of integrity,
To pure loyalty, to a step that never falters.
For all the Alains, the steadfast, the loving,
May the celebration be sincere, beneath the will of the elements.

There are clear mornings when the earth begins to breathe,
When the first cry is born, destined to become an empire.
The Nativity steps forward on the eighth day of autumn,
Like a first breath that no winter can ever silence.

It is the dawn before the fire, the branch turning green,
The promise of fruit beneath the ripening vine.
It is the daughter of the soil, the first spark,
Carrying within her the rising light.
Yet beneath the gentleness of a child in her cradle,
Lives a vibrant strength, a destiny bound for the open sea.

For the Nativity is the song of seeds,
The mystery of the world and its rebirth.
It is new flesh offered beneath the great sun,
A cradle of hope opening the way to a vast awakening.

Tomorrow, let us raise our glasses to the secret of dawn,
To life that refuses to surrender, to courage that bites back.
For all beginnings, all renewed impulses,
May the celebration be sincere, beneath the will of the elements.

There are daughters of Alise with eyes the colour of the wind,
Who guard their flock without fear of tyrants.
Reine steps forward proudly on the seventh day of autumn,
A crown of thorns upon her brow, higher than any throne.

She rejected gold, marriage and the court,
For the sole freedom of an indomitable love.
She is the shepherdess of dawn, the rebel of the plains,
Who makes iron bend and breaks every chain.
Yet beneath the torment and the executioner’s steel,
Burns a pure flame, a breath of beauty still alive.

For Reine is nobility hidden among the heather,
A steadfast strength rooted in proud Burgundian stone.
She is a body of dawn, with a radiant smile,
A queen of hearts who defies the insults of time.

Tomorrow, let us raise our glasses to this name of assurance,
To bare freedom, to proud and fearless courage.
For all the Reines, the sovereign, the loving,
May the celebration be beautiful and the night tremble with life.