La legende de la nonne - Hugo's poetry finds full scope in the savagery of medieval superstition

Brassens put to music nine verses of this famous poem written by Victor Hugo in 1828. (I include Hugo's poem in full along with my translation at the end of this post.) 

Left - Portrait of Victor Hugo



Orthodox Christians might perhaps regard this poem as a salutary warning not to transgress the rules of the Church. It would seem however that Hugo’s intent - as well as to write a powerful, evocative poem - was to draw attention to a practice in education of instilling fabricated terrors in the minds of young children, at an age when they have no defence, in order to exercise permanent control over them through life.

We can expect Georges Brassens, who was hostile to institutional authority, including that of the Church, to share Hugo's misgivings about these educational methods.

La légende de la nonne - The legend of the nun

Venez, vous dont l'œil étincelle,( 1) Pour entendre une histoire encor’ Approchez, je vous dirai celle De Doña Padilla del Flor. Elle était d'Alanje, où s'entassent Les collines et les halliers. Enfants, voici des bœufs (2) qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers. Il est des filles à Grenade, Il en est à Séville aussi, Qui, pour la moindre sérénade, À l'amour demandent merci; Il en est que parfois embrassent, Le soir, de hardis cavaliers. Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers. Ce n'est pas sur ce ton frivole Qu'il faut parler de Padilla, Car jamais prunelle espagnole D'un feu plus chaste ne brilla; Elle fuyait ceux qui pourchassent Les filles sous les peupliers. Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers. Elle prit le voile à Tolède, Au grand soupir des gens du lieu, Comme si, quand on n'est pas laide, On n’avait droit d'épouser Dieu.(5) Peu s'en fallut que ne pleurassent Les soudards et les écoliers. Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers. Or, la belle à peine cloîtrée, Amour en son cœur s'installa. Un fier brigand de la contrée Vint alors et dit : "Me voilà !" Quelquefois les brigands surpassent En audace les chevaliers Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers. Il était laid: les traits austères, La main plus rude que le gant ; Mais l'amour a bien des mystères, Et la nonne aima le brigand. On voit des biches qui remplacent Leurs beaux cerfs par des sangliers.(6) Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers. La nonne osa, dit la chronique, Au brigand par l'enfer conduit, Aux pieds de Sainte Véronique (7) Donner un rendez-vous la nuit, À l'heure où les corbeaux croassent, Volant dans l'ombre par milliers. Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers. Or quand, dans la nef descendue, La nonne appela le bandit, Au lieu de la voix attendue, C'est la foudre qui répondit. Dieu voulut que ses coups frappassent Les amants par Satan liés. Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent Cachez vos rouges tabliers. Cette histoire de la novice, Saint Ildefonse, abbé, voulut (8) Qu'afin de préserver du vice Les vierges qui font leur salut, Les prieures la racontassent Dans tous les couvents réguliers. Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent Cachez vos rouges tabliers. Verses taken by Brassens from the poem of Victor Hugo written in 1828 Brassens song:1955 - Chanson pour l'Auvergnat

Come near, you whose eyes sparkle bright To hear me tell a story again, Gather round, I will tell the one Of Doña Padilla del Flor She came from Alanje, where mount up high The hillsides and the brushland. Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores.(3) There are girls in Grenada There are some in Seville as well Who at the slightest serenade Are left begging mercy from love And some of them chance to be kissed By bold suitors, at eventide.(4) Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. It is not in such  light manner That we should speak of Padilla For never a Spanish eye Has shone with a fire so chaste She would flee from men who chased Girls beneath the poplar trees Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. In Toledo she took the veil To shocked sighs from the local men As if, when one is not plain, You’d no right to get wed to God They were very close to tears Ordinary lads and scholars Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. Now, scarce was the maid in cloisters, Love for a man seized her heart A proud brigand from thereabouts Then had come and said: « Behold me ». Sometimes brigands go far beyond Noble knights in daring Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. He was ugly : his looks austere His hand rougher than a glove But love has mysteries aplenty And the nun fell for the brigand You see female deer who oust Handsome bucks to be with wild boar Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. The nun dared, so history tells us With the brigand, under hell’s lead At the feet of St. Veronique To arrange a night rendez-vous, At the hour when the crows caw loud Flying thousands strong in the dark. Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. Now when, having walked down the nave The nun called out for the bandit’  Instead of the voice expected T’was a thunderbolt which replied God wished  its blasts to strike down The lovers by Satan conjoined Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. This tale of the novice nun Ildefonse, priest and saint, wanted For the purpose of keeping from vice Virgins who seek their salvation Prioresses to relate In all the regular convents. Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores.

Translation Notes

1) « vous dont l'oeil étincelle » The nun is telling her horrific tale to happy young children

2) « bœufs qui passent » - boeufs is the word for cattle, but the word is often used for bullocks- Larousse tells me. 
We all know about "a red rag to a bull” and hence the teacher nun's anxiety. However the use of these two lines as a final refrain to each verse, when they have no link with actual tale, gives us another message. Their teacher is deliberately filling the defenceless minds with exaggerated fears and the final verse of the poem explains that this is deliberate in order to exert religious discipline. 3) “vos rouges tabliers” The children would wear smocks to protect their clothes during the school day.
4) The inappropriate, excited detail suggests the sexual repression of the celibate nuns

5) « épouser Dieu » When a novice nun made her vows, the ritual was of marriage to Jesus Christ and a ring was put on her finger.

6)On voit des biches qui remplacent leurs beaux cerfs par des sangliers - The nuns equate human love with unnatural animal mating.

7) Sainte Véronique. They are to meet under the statue of Saint Veronica.

8) « Cette histoire de la novice, Saint Ildefonse, abbé, voulut » This last verse is also the last verse of Hugo’s poem. Here Hugo gives the name of the church dignitary from whom this story originated and gives his motive: to frighten any nuns tempted to break their vows.

We should expect Hugo, the great humanitarian defender of downtrodden people to be hostile to this abuse of the innocence of children. We should be wary, however, of associating Hugo too closely with pure rationalism. Hugo was mystic who believed he was able to converse with Virgil, Shakespeare and Jesus Christ - but perhaps not with the Christ of Saint Ildefonse's depiction!

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Barbara gets the lilt of the poetry in her recording of Brassens' song:

THE FULL TEXT OF HUGO'S POEM WITH TRANSLATION

This poem is regarded as one of Hugo’s most beautiful poems. Unfortunately the best verses are the later ones that Brassens did not include. We can understand that it would have been a very long song if he had!

In these omitted verses the poetic imagination of the great man of French literature is given full scope as he describes the nightmarish ordeals undergone by the tortured lovers as they emerge from the jaws of hell each night in their frustrated quest to meet together. As well as the epic horror there is also the lyrical pathos of the tragedy of two human beings, whose fatal crime was to fall in love. 

Venez, vous dont l’œil étincelle, Pour entendre une histoire encor, Approchez : je vous dirai celle De doña Padilla del Flor. Elle était d’Alanje, où s’entassent Les collines et les halliers. - Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers !  Il est des filles à Grenade, Il en est à Séville aussi, Qui, pour la moindre sérénade, À l’amour demandent merci ; Il en est que d’abord embrassent, Le soir, de hardis cavaliers. - Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers ! Ce n’est pas sur ce ton frivole Qu’il faut parler de Padilla, Car jamais prunelle espagnole D’un feu plus chaste ne brilla ; Elle fuyait ceux qui pourchassent Les filles sous les peupliers. - Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers ! Rien ne touchait ce cœur farouche, Ni doux soins, ni propos joyeux ; Pour un mot d’une belle bouche, Pour un signe de deux beaux yeux, On sait qu’il n’est rien que ne fassent Les seigneurs et les bacheliers. - Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers ! Elle prit le voile à Tolède, Au grand soupir des gens du lieu, Comme si, quand on n’est pas laide, On avait droit d’épouser Dieu. Peu s’en fallut que ne pleurassent Les soudards et les écoliers. - Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers ! Mais elle disait : « Loin du monde, Vivre et prier pour les méchants ! Quel bonheur ! quelle paix profonde Dans la prière et dans les chants ! Là, si les démons nous menacent, Les anges sont nos boucliers ! » - Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers ! Or, la belle à peine cloîtrée, Amour en son cœur s’installa. Un fier brigand de la contrée Vint alors et dit : Me voilà ! Quelquefois les brigands surpassent En audace les chevaliers. - Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers !  Il était laid : les traits austères, La main plus rude que le gant ; Mais l’amour a bien des mystères, Et la nonne aima le brigand. On voit des biches qui remplacent Leurs beaux cerfs par des sangliers. - Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers ! Pour franchir la sainte limite, Pour approcher du saint couvent, Souvent le brigand d’un ermite Prenait le cilice et souvent La cotte de maille où s’enchâssent Les croix noires des Templiers. - Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers ! La nonne osa, dit la chronique, Au brigand par l’enfer conduit, Aux pieds de sainte Véronique Donner un rendez-vous la nuit, À l’heure où les corbeaux croassent, Volant dans l’ombre par milliers. - Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers ! Padilla voulait, anathème ! Oubliant sa vie en un jour, Se livrer, dans l’église même, Sainte à l’enfer, vierge à l’amour, Jusqu’à l’heure pâle où s’effacent Les cierges sur les chandeliers. - Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers ! Or quand, dans la nef descendue, La nonne appela le bandit, Au lieu de la voix attendue, C’est la foudre qui répondit. Dieu voulu que ses coups frappassent Les amants par Satan liés. - Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers !  Aujourd’hui, des fureurs divines Le pâtre enflammant ses récits, Vous montre au penchant des ravines Quelques tronçons de murs noircis, Deux clochers que les ans crevassent, Dont l’abri tuerait ses béliers. - Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers ! Quand la nuit, du cloître gothique Brunissant les portails béants, Change à l’horizon fantastique Les deux clochers en deux géants ; À l’heure où les corbeaux croassent, Volant dans l’ombre par milliers... - Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers ! Une nonne, avec une lampe, Sort d’une cellule à minuit ; Le long des murs le spectre rampe, Un autre fantôme le suit ; Des chaînes sur leurs pieds s’amassent, De lourds carcans sont leurs colliers. - Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers ! La lampe vient, s’éclipse, brille, Sous les arceaux court se cacher, Puis tremble derrière une grille, Puis scintille au bout d’un clocher ; Et ses rayons dans l’ombre tracent Des fantômes multipliés. - Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers ! Les deux spectres qu’un feu dévore, Traînant leur suaire en lambeaux, Se cherchent pour s’unir encore, En trébuchant sur des tombeaux ; Leurs pas aveugles s’embarrassent Dans les marches des escaliers. - Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers ! Mais ce sont des escaliers fées, Qui sous eux s’embrouillent toujours ; L’un est aux caves étouffées, Quand l’autre marche au front des tours ; Sous leurs pieds, sans fin se déplacent Les étages et les paliers. - Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers ! Élevant leurs voix sépulcrales, Se cherchant les bras étendus, Ils vont... Les magiques spirales Mêlent leurs pas toujours perdus ; Ils s’épuisent et se harassent En détours, sans cesse oubliés. - Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers !  La pluie alors, à larges gouttes, Bat les vitraux frêles et froids ; Le vent siffle aux brèches des voûtes ; Une plainte sort des beffrois ; On entend des soupirs qui glacent, Des rires d’esprits familiers. - Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers !  Une voix faible, une voix haute, Disent : « Quand finiront les jours ? Ah ! nous souffrons par notre faute ; Mais l’éternité, c’est toujours ! Là, les mains des heures se lassent À retourner les sabliers... » - Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers ! L’enfer, hélas ! ne peut s’éteindre. Toutes les nuits, dans ce manoir, Se cherchent sans jamais s’atteindre Une ombre blanche, un spectre noir, Jusqu’à l’heure pâle où s’effacent Les cierges sur les chandeliers. - Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers ! Si, tremblant à ces bruits étranges, Quelque nocturne voyageur, En se signant demande aux anges Sur qui sévit le Dieu vengeur, Des serpents de feu qui s’enlacent Tracent deux noms sur les piliers. - Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers !  Cette histoire de la novice, Saint Ildefonse, abbé, voulut Qu’afin de préserver du vice Les vierges qui font leur salut, Les prieures la racontassent Dans tous les couvents réguliers. - Enfants, voici des bœufs qui passent, Cachez vos rouges tabliers !

Come near, you whose eyes sparkle bright To hear me tell a story again, Gather round, I will tell the one Of Doña Padilla del Flor She came from Alanje, where mount up high The hillsides and the brushland. Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores.(3) There are girls in Grenada There are some in Seville as well Who at the slightest serenade Are left begging love for mercy And some of them chance to be kissed By bold suitors, at eventide.(4) Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. It is not in such  light manner That we should speak of Padilla For never a Spanish eye Has shone with a fire so chaste She would flee from men who chased Girls beneath the poplar trees Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. Nothing could touch this steadfast heart Not kindnesses nor merry chat For a word from beautiful mouth For a sign from two lovely eyes They knew there was nothing doing The noblemen and the scholars Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. In Toledo she took the veil To shocked sighs from the local men As if, when one is not ugly, You’d no right to get wed to God They were very close to tears Both the roughnecks and the scholars Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. But she would say:”Far from the world To live and pray for the wicked! What happiness!  What deep peace! In the praying and in the chants! There if the demons threaten us The angels are our shields!” Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. Now, scarce was the maid in cloisters, Love in her heart found a firm place A proud brigand from thereabouts Then turned up and said: « Here I am! ». Sometimes brigands go far beyond Noble knights in audacity Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. He was ugly : his looks austere His hand rougher than a glove But love has mysteries aplenty And the nun fell for the brigand You see female deer who oust Handsome bucks to be with wild boar Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. To cross the holy boundary To approach the holy convent Oft the brigand from a hermit Would take the cassock and often The coat of mail in which are set The black crosses of the Templars - Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. The nun dared, so the chronicle tells, With the brigand, under hell’s lead At the feet of St. Veronique To arrange a night rendez-vous, At the hour when the crows caw loud Flying thousands strong in the dark. Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. Padilla wanted- anathema ! Forgetting her life in one day To give herself in the church itself Sacred for hell, virginal for love, Until the pale hour when burn out The candles on the candlesticks Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores Now when, having walked down the nave The nun called out for the bandit’  Instead of the voice expected T’was a thunderbolt which replied God wished  its blasts to strike down The lovers by Satan conjoined Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. Nowadays, with furies divine The shepherd impassioning his tales Points out on the slope of the ravines A few remains of blackened walls Two steeples that the years have gnawed Whose shelter would kill his rams Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. When night, on the gothic cloister Burnishing the gaping portals Changes on the eery horizon The two steeples to two giants At time of day when the crows caw loud Flying in thousands in the darkness Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. A nun, holding a lamp Comes from a cell on midnight Along the walls the spectre creeps Another phantom follows Chains upon their feet are stacked Heavy iron yokes form their collars Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. The lamp comes, is hid, shines Neath the arches runs for cover Then dithers behind a grill Then sparkles at the end of a steeple And its beams in the darkness trace Phantoms in countless numbers Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. The two spectres devoured by fire Trailing their shrouds in tatters Seek once more to be together Staggering over the tombstones ; Their blind footsteps lose their way On the steps of the stairways Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. But these are fairy staircases In confused tangle neath them, One to the suffocating cellars When the other leads to the front of the towers. Beneath their feet is a constant shift Of levels and of landings. Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. Raising their sepulcral voices Seeking each other, arms outstretched, They go… The magic spirals Merge their steps forever lost: Grown weary they exhaust themselves In detours, always forgotten Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. The rain falls then in big drops Beats the stained panes frail and cold The wind whistles through gaps in vaults A moan comes from the belfries One hears sighs which make blood run cold Laughter of ghostly spirits. – Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. One voice weak, one voice loud Say : “When are the days to end?” Ah ! We suffer through our own fault But eternity, is forever! There the hands grow weary turning Over the sandglasses of time …. Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. Hell alas can never burn out All the nights in this old house They seek each other never to touch A shadow white, a spectre black Until the pale hour when die out The candles upon their candlesticks Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. If trembling at these strange sounds Some nocturnal traveller Crossing himself asks the angels ‘Gainst whom the avenging God rages, Some close-writhing  serpents of fire Trace two names upon the pillars Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores. This tale of the novice nun Ildefonse, priest and saint, wanted For the purpose of keeping from vice Virgins who seek their salvation That prioresses should tell In all the regular convents. Children here are bullocks passing Cover your bright red pinafores.

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