L’enterrement de Verlaine – The Funeral of Verlaine

Brassens sings Paul Fort’s poem, in which he recalls, in his view, the finest day of the Belle Époque- the day he attended the mass tribute at the funeral of one of the most prominent Bohemian geniuses of the age – Paul Verlaine.

The date is early January 1896 and the scene is the Boulevard Saint Michel (referred to colloquially as the Boul’ Mich) in the Latin Quarter. The backdrop is beauty and elegance in an era when the good things in life were enjoyed.

It was a time when talent was respected and a time of tolerance. The people of Paris, supported their eccentric poet, Paul Verlaine, at the end of his scandalous, dissolute life and they turned out in force for his funeral. Thousands of them thronged the elegant boulevard on that cold winter’s morning. However, as far as Paul Fort was concerned, not one of the people present came close to equalling the stature of the dead man.

L'ENTERREMENT DE VERLAINE(1)

Le revois-tu mon âme, ce Boul' Mich' d'autrefois Et dont le plus beau jour fut un jour de beau froid: Dieu ! S'ouvrit-il jamais une voie aussi pure Au convoi d'un grand mort suivi de miniatures ? Tous les grognards - petits - de Verlaine étaient là, Toussotant, frissonnant, glissant sur le verglas, Mais qui suivaient ce mort et la désespérance, Morte enfin, du premier rossignol de la France.(2) Ou plutôt du second (François de Montcorbier,(3 Voici belle lurette (4) en fut le vrai premier) N'importe ! Lélian,(5) je vous suivrai toujours! Premier ? Second ? Vous seul. En ce plus froid des jours. N'importe ! Je suivrai toujours, l'âme enivrée Ah ! folle d'une espérance désespérée (6) Montesquiou-Fezensac(7) et Bibi-la-purée(8) Vos deux gardes du corps, - entre tous moi dernier. From the poem of Paul Fort

My heart, can you see that Boulevard Mich of yore And whose finest day was a day of cold beauty God ! Was ever city highway so pure opened up For hearse of a great man with lesser folk behind? All of Verlaine’s old crowd – little rated - were there Coughing and shivering, slipping on the sheet ice But who followed this corpse and the sense of despair, Dead at last, of the first nightingale of the French. Or rather, the second. (François de Montcorbier… Here we have, by a long chalk, the firstcomer No matter ! Lélian, I’ll follow you always. The first ? Second ? Just you. On this coldest of days No matter! I'll follow always, soul enraptured- Ah ! driven mad by a hope despaired of Montesquiou-Fezensac and Bibi-la-purée Your two pall-bearers- among them, me, at the back. Brassens 1960 – Le mécréant

TRANSLATION NOTES

(1) L’enterrement de Verlaine. -Verlaine was only 51 when he died. During his last years in Paris, he had descended into alcoholism and drug addiction. He lived in poverty in slum lodgings and passed periods in public hospitals. He spent his days drinking absinthe in Paris cafés and this is a photo of the poet around 1895. Throughout this time, he continued to be acclaimed the leading poet of France.

(2) Le premier rossignol de la France – Fort appears to be making the very controversial claim that there had been no previous French poet to equal Verlaine. Many people would propose different candidates for this first position – Musset, Vigny, Hugo etc. If he is merely saying that Verlaine had been given the honorific role of “Prince des poètes”, this is factually true as he held this title from 1894 until his death. If he is saying that Verlaine brought a unique musicality to French poetry many would agree enthusiastically.

(3) François de Montcorbier is the correct family name for the great French poet, François Villon (1431- some time after 1463) – His most famous poem “Où sont les neiges d’autan”. Fort appears to confirm that his intention was to designate the leading French poet ever in French literature, when he concedes that the distinction he had first claimed for Verlaine rightly belonged to Villon.

(4) Voici/ il y a belle lurette – This idiom means a very long time ago. (From “heurette” little hour)

(5) Lélian, : Pauvre Lelian is an anagram which his close friend and fellow poet Rimbaud, had formed from the name “Paul Verlaine”. In the nickname there is perhaps implied some mockery of Verlaine’s over-feminine sensitivity.

Verlaine had married a young girl, Mathilde in 1870, but, a year later, he fell in love with the poet Arthur Rimbaud, who was a seventeen year old student. By 1872, he had deserted his wife and child to be with his young lover. Their relationship was tempestuous and in 1873 Verlaine shot him in the arm during a drunken quarrel. He served an 18 month prison sentence as a result.



(6) folle d'une espérance désespérée – We can only speculate why the poet, Paul Fort, felt so emotional about the dashing of his personal hopes. Perhaps he is thinking bitterly of the high hopes he had had for the Théâtre d' Art which he had founded in 1890, while he was a student at the Lycée Louis-le-Grand in Paris. His aim had been to promote the work of people in the arts, including his friend, Paul Verlaine, and Paul Gauguin. The venture survived no more than a couple of years.

(7)Montesquiou-Fezensac. To modern readers, the two proper names on the penultimate line must be meaningless, but these were big, well known personalities in France at the turn of the 20th century. The Comte Robert de Montesquiou-Fezensac was a descendant of d'Artagnan, whose tale is told in Dumas’ « The Three musketeers.” Montesquiou-Fezensac attempted Symbolist poetry and was an art collector and homosexual dandy. It is believed that he was the model for the Proustian character, the Baron de Charlus in Proust’s “À la recherche du temps perdu”.

(8) Bibi-la-purée – This was the name by which André Joseph Salis de Saglia was known. He dressed like a tramp but was one of the leading personalities of the Latin Quarter at the time and was given the title of le roi de la Bohème. He appears in the poetry of Verlaine, in James Joyce’s Ulysses and is seen in a Picasso painting.

On the morning of the funeral, he took up position by the coffin on the strength of his claim that he had been the dead man’s secretary and lover. This could have been true although he was an inveterate liar. Montesquiou, who was a pall-bearer, then intervened to protest that his ragged, eccentric dress was not in keeping with the dignity of the occasion. Bibi-la-purée was moved to a less conspicuous position, where, it is said, he took advantage to pilfer a number of unattended mourners’ umbrellas.

By the end of the day, the snobbish aristocrat and the professional bohemian were reconciled and were chatting intimately, using the “tu” form.



(9) Paul Fort - He was born in 1872 and in 1912 he was given the title of “Prince de Poètes” which he held until his death in 1960. He was a lover of the French ballad and the folk tradition. His verse, clear and rhythmic, converts fairly readily into song lyrics. Other poems by Fort on which Brassens based songs were: Le Petit Cheval – La Marine – Comme Hier – Si le bon dieu avait voulu – He recorded (spoken only) Fort’s poems – Germaine Tourangelle -Petit Verglas. Brassens also wrote a poem to commemorate Paul Fort’s funeral: L’enterrement de Paul Fort.

Two Personal Comments

1 Verlaine as the leading French poet

Paul Fort was taking a liberty in designating the leading French poets as this kind of judgement is very subjective. However, I found sympathy with him because the most active legacy that I clung to after studying a selection of French poets at “A” level fifty years ago was the verse of Verlaine. In particular, we analysed and learned by heart his Chanson d'Automne from his collection , Poèmes saturniens (1866). For years afterwards, I quoted the rich assonance of the first verse:

Les sanglots longs

Des violons

De l'automne

Blessent mon cœur

D'une langueur

Monotone.

Similarly I used to enjoy indulging in the melancholy of « Il pleure dans mon cœur » where Verlaine is at his most Lélian

Il pleure dans mon cœur

Comme il pleut sur la ville;

Quelle est cette langueur

Qui pénètre mon cœur?

Ô bruit doux de la pluie

Par terre et sur les toits!

Pour un cœur qui s'ennuie

Ô le chant de la pluie!

etc

From Romances sans paroles (1874)

These are lines, of course, familiar with most students of French - and that says a lot about Verlaine’s pre-eminence in French literature.!

2 Memories of France of the Belle Époque

Paul Fort is describing here a precious memory of an outstanding event in his life. My French professor used to tell an anecdote about the previous holder of his post. Although this, by then, old man was a lover of France, he had never visited Paris for fifty years. Born in the 1870s, he had lived in Paris at the turn of the century. He knew a Paris where elegant people drove around in horse drawn carriages and the streets were lit by gaslight. He had not the heart to return to Paris and erase this splendid image by superimposing that of modern Paris.

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The poem is recited:


Brassens-L'enterrement de Verlaine
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Colombine - This poem by Verlaine tells of the female star character of the Italian mime theatre.

Colombine

Brassens put music to this lilting, melodic poem of Paul Verlaine. The poet tells how someone who ruthlessly exploits his or her sexual charm is able to reduce to a state of abject subjugation those who fall victim - and Verlaine’s life story suggests that perhaps he should know! To illustrate this farcical, human situation, he enacts a typical scene, performed by the Italian mime theatre the Commedia dell'arte.(1)

Verlaine's Colombine

Léandre le sot, Pierrot qui d'un saut De puce Franchit le buisson, Cassandre sous son Capuce, Arlequin aussi, Cet aigrefin si Fantasque, Aux costumes fous, Les yeux luisant sous Son masque, Do, mi, sol, mi, fa, Tout ce monde va, Rit, chante Et danse devant Une frêle enfant Méchante Dont les yeux pervers Comme les yeux verts Des chattes Gardent ses appas (2) Et disent : "A bas les pattes ! " A verse with no words is played next and then Brassens sings the following as his last verse: L'implacable enfant, Preste et relevant Ses jupes, La rose au chapeau, Conduit son troupeau De dupes ! From the poem of Paul Verlaine Song by Georges Brassens -1955 - Chanson pour l'auvergnat

Silly Leander, Pierrot who with one Flea-like jump Springs over the bush Cassander neath his Deep monk’s cowl, Harlequin also, That cheating rogue so Full of guile In crazy costume, His keen eyes glinting Neath his mask Do, mi, so, mi, fa, All these go along Laugh and sing They dance in front of A skinny girl who Means trouble Whose eyes of menace Like the bright green eyes Of felines Guard her body’s charms As they say Wand’ring hands, keep off! The child, hard to please Spry and with her skirts Lifted high The rose in her hat Leads on her flock of Those she fools!

NOTES

1)The Commedia dell'arte - The poem gives a glimpse of the “Commedia dell'arte”, the Italian theatre which was popular to French audiences during three centuries. Molière knew it well and its influence is seen in his comedies. Two hundred years later, Balzac, in “Le Père Goriot” shows the members of Parisian high society making a weekly visit to the Italian theatre.

The noble and distinguished people who attended this theatre were enjoying boisterous knockabout comedy, which could be very racy. There was comic portrayal of sex and the plot was often based on sexual infidelity and promiscuity. Situations which enacted shipwrecks and fires allowed the actresses to cast off their clothes.

The admirable skill of these players was to go onstage to perform an unwritten drama which, to a great extent, they improvised on the spot.

The theatre had stock characters and we meet some of them in this poem:
.
• The young lovers- often naïve. In this poem Leander is the young hero, foolishly besotted (with Colombine).
• The easily deceived old man. In this poem it is Cassander, who is wearing a hood to hide his lustful pursuit of the young girl temptress, Colombine.
• The cheeky young serving girl was very often called Colombine as here. She was usually completely amoral and although she had a lover, she shared her favours as she liked.

• The rascally servants. There were usually several of these. They were usually lazy scoundrels and sometimes cruel and cunning. Although they deceived others, they were often so stupid that they were themselves open to deception. Verlaine gives us here the two most well-known:
a. Pierrot was the white faced clown – hence the acrobatics.

b. Harlequin was one of the characters who traditionally wore a mask. He was deeply in love with Colombine, who caused him great jealousy.

(2) Gardent ses appas – « Les appas » mean charms or charming features. A plural noun with the same sound would be « Les appâts » - the bait used to catch your prey. Both could apply to the armoury of the predatory female.

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Misogynie à part - For him to mention his partner's quirks in their sex life is not misogyny

Explicit lines in this poem make it suitable only for adult readers. After long hesitation, I include it because I see in the song true Brassens qualities and genuine Brassens fun –as can be seen from the audience reaction in the video.
This poem describes a dysfunctional relationship where the girl while enjoying passionate and adventurous lovemaking, spoils her lover’s experience by insisting on elements of middle class gentility and by merging her sexual ecstasy with the religious ecstasy it aroused in her.

Misogynie à part

Misogynie à part, le sage avait raison : Il y a les emmerdantes,(1) on en trouve à foison, En foule elles se pressent, Il y a les emmerdeuses(1), un peu plus raffinées, Et puis, très nettement au-dessus du panier, Y a les emmerderesses(1). La mienne, à elle seule, sur tout's surenchérit, Ell' relève à la fois des trois catégories, Véritable prodige, Emmerdante, emmerdeuse, emmerderesse itou, Elle passe, ell' dépasse, elle surpasse tout, Ell' m'emmerde, vous dis-je. Mon dieu, pardonnez-moi ces propos bien amers, Ell' m'emmerde, ell' m'emmerde, ell' m'emmerde, ell' m'emmer- De, elle abuse, elle attige. Ell' m'emmerde et j' regrett' mes bell's amours avec La p'tite Enfant d' Marie (3) que m'a soufflée l'évêque, Ell' m'emmerde, vous dis-je. Ell' m'emmerde, ell' m'emmerde, et m'oblige à me cu- Rer les ongles avant de confirmer son cul, Or, c'est pas Callipyge(4). Et la charité seul' pouss' ma main résignée Vers ce cul rabat-joie, conique, renfrogné, Ell' m'emmerde, vous dis-je. Ell' m'emmerde, ell' m'emmerde, je le répète et quand Ell' me tape sur le ventre, elle garde ses gants, Et ça me désoblige. Outre que ça dénote un grand manque de tact, Ça n' favorise pas tellement le contact, Ell' m'emmerde, vous dis-je. Ell' m'emmerde, ell' m'emmerd' , quand je tombe à genoux Pour certain's dévotions qui sont bien de chez nous Et qui donn'nt le vertige, Croyant l'heure venue de chanter le Credo, Elle m'ouvre tout grand son missel sur le dos, Ell' m'emmerde, vous dis-je. Ell' m'emmerde, ell' m'emmerde, à la fornication Ell' s'emmerde, ell' s'emmerde avec ostentation, (5) Ell' s'emmerde, vous dis-je Au lieu de s'écrier : "Encore ! hardi ! hardi !" Ell' déclam' du Claudel (6) ! du Claudel, j'ai bien dit, Alors ça, ça me fige. Ell' m'emmerde, ell' m'emmerd', j'admets que ce Claudel Soit un homm' de génie, un poète immortel, J' reconnais son prestige, Mais qu'on aille chercher dedans son œuvre pie, Un aphrodisiaque, non, ça, c'est d' l'utopie!(8) Ell' m'emmerde, vous dis-je. Georges Brassens In the album: 1969 - La religieuse

Misogyny apart, the wise man was quite right There are enmerdant girls, you find them in plenty In great hordes, they come at you, There are enmerdous girls, a little more refined And then very clearly, at the top of the heap There are the enmerderesses. Mine stands out alone, outclasses the whole lot She ticks at the same time all three boxes Veritable prodigy Enmerdant, enmerdous, enmerderesse the lot. She goes further, outstrips, she surpasses them all, She enmerds me, I tell you. Oh god, pray pardon me these very bitter words She enmerds me, she enmerds me, she enmerds me Takes advantage, goes too far. She enmerds me and I regret my fine amours spent with The Sunday School girl whom, the bishop pinched from me. She enmerds me, I tell you. She enmerds, she enmerds, and forces me to clean Up my nails before I confirm her bum. Now she is no Callipyge And charity alone drives my resign-ed hand To this joyless bottom, cone-shaped, sad looking She enmerds me I tell you. She enmerds me, she enmerds me, I repeat it and when She’s pumping on my stomach, she keeps on her gloves And this causes me offence. Besides this displaying a great lack of tact, It doesn't much help the physical contact She enmerds me I tell you. She enmerds, she enmerds, when I fall to my knees For certain devotions that are OK with the French And which bring on dizzy spells Believing the time's come for chanting the creed She flings open out wide her missel on my back She enmerds me, I tell you. She enmerds me, she enmerds me during fornication She enmerds me, enmerds me with her ostentation. She enmerds me, I tell you. Instead of crying out : « Once more ! Go on! Go on! She declaims from Claudel ! From Claudel you heard right. Well that turns me right off.. She enmerds me, she enmerds me, I admit that this Claudel Is a man of genius, a poet immortal I acknowledge his prestige But that one goes seeking within his wordy tomes(7) An aphrodisiac, no that’s just fantasy! She enmerds me, I tell you.

TRANSLATION NOTES  

(1) emmerdantes, emmerdeuses, emmerderesses - These words and the idea behind them come from Paul Valéry (1871-1945) the famous poet, critic and essayist. Like Brassens, Valéry was born in Sètes and like Brassens is buried there – but not in the same cemetery. Brassens talks about him in another poem on this website – see Supplique pour être enterré à la plage de Sète - .

Valéry is quoted as saying: « Il y a trois sortes de femmes: les emmerdeuses, les emmerdantes... et les emmerderesses ».

Emmerder.  -My Collins dictionary lists the verb « emmerder » to badly annoy/ to bug someone.

 emmerdant Collins lists “emmerdant”, the participle used as an adjective, to translate the word “annoying” with pejorative force suggesting various English oaths.  Thus says Collins, emmerdant could describe someone who is: damned annoying / a damned nuisance/  a pain in the neck.  Other dictionaries say a pain in the ass/  a real drag/ a lousy bore.

L’emmerdant – The noun form would use the above expressions e.g.  “quel emmerdant!” = what a bloody nuisance. C’est une emmerdante could translate- She is real trouble

 Un emmerdeur”/ une emmerdeuse  Collins translates as the same as “Emmerdant”, thus :a damned nuisance/ a pain in the neck. You could also say He/ She is real trouble/ He/ she is a right pain in the ass and variations on all the expressions above.

Emmerderesse - Collins and the French dictionaries do not give the word “emmerderesse », which Valéry seems to have invented himself by analogy with other words made feminine with the suffix “esse” e.g. “pécheur”/ “pécheresse” = sinner.

A lot of looking up in dictionaries has merely shown me that all Valery’s three words mean the same and if there is a gradation, it is only in Valéry’s mind.

All these words are based on the word “merde” which means “s**t”. Although this word is used more freely in French and lacks the shock of the English translation, its basic meaning still applies.

On translating this poem, I tried to use the words “annoy” “irritate” “exasperate”, but found them very deficient in meaning. In desperation, I have imitated my colleagues in sociology and invented my own code word:

To enmerd = to drive people to desperation by imposing on them a load of pointless, demeaning rubbish (merde)

2) Misogynie à part – Who is the misogynist? Paul Valéry seems to be saying that all women are guilty of emmerdement, which is a very sweeping condemnation of the female sex. This is obviously a misogynistic remark. I feel that Brassens shows by his choice of title that he recognised the misogyny of Valéry’s sentiments, but, all the same, he was glad to use Valéry’s terminology as a springboard for this provocative song.

3) La p'tite Enfant d' Marie – The 1930s saw the growth of political youth movements. In the Soviet Union, there were the pioneers. In Germany, there was the Hitler Youth. The Catholic Church formed a youth movement for boys, called « Les Croisés » and for girls called “Les Enfants de Marie” aimed particularly against Communist atheism which had growing support among the left-wing in France. This membership gives an expectation of strict sexual morals.

4) Vénus callipyge - The statue of the Venus Kallipygos is now in the Royal Museum in Naples. The worship of this Venus had been widespread in Ancient Greece and then had spread to Italy. The word Kallipygos is formed by an adjective, Κάλλος, which means beautiful and a noun πυγὴ, which means bum.

5) Ell' m'emmerde, ell' m'emmerde - This word, emphatic in itself, is made even more emphatic by its repetition, six times in three lines. However, some of the humour comes from the sense that this is a pretend indignation, while describing their mutual pleasure. Also the style of their lovemaking seems to be an established routine to which each returned willingly. No doubt, Brassens was fascinated and amused by his quirky young partner. The vehemence of his overstatement is comic as we see from the reaction of singer and audience.

6) Ell' déclam' du Claudel - Paul Claudel (1868 -1955) was a very prominent man of letters, who produced an incredible output of poems, plays, travel books, literary criticism and more. His plays were extremely long- one lasting eleven hours. In his writings, he expressed his very strong faith in Roman Catholicism. Like many influential French Catholics, he had been a strong supporter of the ideals of the collaborationist Vichy government of General Pétain, to whom he addressed a eulogical poem. This background served to limit Claudel’s appeal to those on the political left, such as Brassens.

The article about Claudel in Wikipedia, has a sentence which seems relevant to this poem. We read there that Claudel used “scenes of passionate, obsessive human love to convey with great power God's infinite love for humanity”. Above the physical detail of lovemaking, which Brassens has described in his poem, most people are probably aware of a spiritual dimension- although not necessarily with religious connotations. In the play Les Miserables, Jean Valjean says "to love another person is to see the face of God.". There is another quotation- also from Victor Hugo I think- that when two people make love, God is always present at that altar.

Perhaps the unconventional, strong-minded young girl gets the better in this poem! At the start we had expectations that she would have conformist, life-denying inhibitions but instead she emerges as an individualist, seeking her own answers. Despite his over-loud protestations against his partner, Brassens has given us another example of one of life’s eccentrics, so dear to him.

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LES CHÂTEAUX DE SABLE (Brassens) - MISTRAL GAGNANT (Renaud)

 

Here are two songs sung by the famous French musician and singer, Maxime le Forestier, on the sad realisation of the transitory nature of all human achievement. This precious experience disappears in a flash and its passing is imperceptible.

With Brassens' song , it is probably a mistake to try to relate the battles he describes to the historical wars of the 20th century  Instead we should probably see it as his general view of the human condition.  In Les châteaux de sable Brassens tells of an unseen epic dimension in the background human life; this is the wheel of history and it is inevitably destructive.-- The theme of death and the fleeting passage of time recur quite often in Brassen's songs

Although he was happy with this poem, Brassens himself never set it to music. Here, it is Le Forestier singing the melody written for the song by Jean Bertola.

In the second song from 1998, “Mistral Gagnant”, Le Forestier, sings a duet with the beautiful Vanessa Paradis. The lyrics of this song are by the French singer- song writer, Renaud. As well as individual memories, Renaud lists the specific objects which formed part of the magic world of his 1950 -1960 childhood, which time, the assassin, stole away.

LES CHÂTEAUX DE SABLE (BRASSENS – 1978)

sung by Maxime Le Forestier, music by Jean Bertola

Je chante la petite guerre (1) Des braves enfants de naguère Qui sur la plage ont bataillé (2) Pour sauver un château de sable Et ses remparts infranchissables Qu'une vague allait balayer. J'en étais : l'arme à la bretelle, Retranchés dans la citadelle, De pied ferme nous attendions Une cohorte sarrazine Partie de la côte voisine À l'assaut de notre bastion. À cent pas de là sur la dune, En attendant que la fortune Des armes sourie aux vainqueurs, Languissant d'être courtisées Nos promises, nos fiancées Préparaient doucement leur coeur. (3) Tout à coup l'Armada sauvage (1) Déferla sur notre rivage Avec ses lances, ses pavois, (4) Pour commettre force rapines, Et même enlever nos Sabines (5) Plus belles que les leurs, ma foi. La mêlée fut digne d'Homère, (1) Et la défaite bien amère À l'ennemi pourtant nombreux, Qu'on battit à plate couture, Qui partit en déconfiture En déroute, en sauve-qui-peut. Oui, cette horde de barbares Que notre fureur désempare Fit retraite avec ses vaisseaux, En n'emportant pour tous trophées, Moins que rien, deux balles crevées, Trois raquettes, quatre cerceaux. (6) Après la victoire fameuse En chantant l'air de "Sambre et Meuse"(7) Et de "La Marseillaise", ô gué, (8) On courut vers la récompense Que le joli sexe dispense Aux petits héros fatigués. Tandis que tout bas à l'oreille De nos Fanny, de nos Mireille On racontait notre saga, Qu'au doigt on leur passait la bague, Surgit une espèce de vague (9) Que personne ne remarqua. Au demeurant ce n'était qu'une Vague sans amplitude aucune, (10) Une vaguelette égarée, Mais en atteignant au rivage Elle causa plus de ravages, De dégâts, qu'un raz-de-marée. Expéditive, la traîtresse Investit notre forteresse, La renversant, la détruisant. Adieu donjon, tours et courtines, Que quatre gouttes anodines Avaient effacés en passant. À quelque temps de là nous sommes (11) Allés mener parmi les hommes D'autres barouds plus décevants, Allés mener d'autres campagnes, Où les châteaux sont plus d'Espagne,(12) Et de sable qu'auparavant. Quand je vois lutter sur la plage Des soldats à la fleur de l'âge, Je ne les décourage pas, Quoique je sache, ayant naguère Livré moi-même cette guerre, L'issue fatale du combat. Je sais que malgré leur défense, Leur histoire est perdue d'avance, Mais je les laisse batailler, Pour sauver un château de sable Et ses remparts infranchissables Qu'une vague allait balayer.

I sing of the little war waged By the bold kids of not long past Who on the beach put up a fight In order to save a sandcastle And its unbreachable ramparts Which one wave would come sweep away. I was with them : gun slung ready Firmly entrenched in the citadel Resolute, we were awaiting A horde of Saracens (1) Set sail from the nearby coast For the assault on our bastion Hundred yards from there on the dune Waiting the time when the fortune Of war should smile upon the victors Languishing for courtships in store Our own betrothèd, our spoken for,  On the quiet, got ready their hearts. All at once the fierce Armada Launched its might onto our shores Pitting its lances, its bucklers To inflict its widespread plunder  And even steal our Sabine girls More beautiful than theirs, in truth. The fight was worthy of Homer And the defeat very bitter  On a foe though strong in number Whom we beat with withering force Who left in complete disarray Routed and running for their lives  Yes, that horde of barbarians Whom our fury tears to pieces Retreated along with its boats, Carrying off as sole trophies Next to nothing, just two punctured balls Three rackets and four bowling hoops. After the famous victory To the strains of the « Sambre et Meuse » And of « the Marseillaise » dum dy dum, We ran for the sweet recompense Which the fair sex dispenses To li(tt)le heroes out on their feet. Whilst we were softly, in the ears Of our Muriels, our Francises Relating our stirring saga On their fingers slipping the ring There rose up some kind of wave Which not one of us had noticed. Besides, it was no more than a Wave without any great amplitude  A little wave gone the wrong way But on reaching the sea shore It caused greater devastation More damage, than a tsunami.  In no time, the treacherous wave Overwhelmed our little fortress Knocking it down, destroying it. Farewell dungeon, towers, battlements Which just four harmless seeming drops Had obliterated in passing. T'was some time on from this we went To engage in, among grown men, Other fights less satisfactory. To engage in other campaigns Where castles are more fanciful And built more on sand, than before  When I see fighting on the beaches Soldiers in the prime of life, I don’t try to discourage them Although I know, myself not long since Having engaged in such a war, The inevitable end to the fight I know that in spite of their defence Their history is doomed in advance  But I leave them to fight it out To save a castle made of sand And its walls no-one can breach, which One wave was goin’ to sweep away.

TRANSLATION NOTES

1) Je chante la petite guerre This first line is a deliberate echo of the opening words of Virgil’s Aeniad : "Arma virumque cano" (Of arms and the man I sing). The Roman poet was writing of the epic wars that led to the foundation of Rome. Brassens is talking of a war little in comparison, but the mock epic tone of his first line suggests that the small war has deep significance for humanity. We will see that the ordinary events of the poem are described in terms which refer to epic events in history: La mêlée fut digne d'Homère -- cohorte sarrazine -- l'Armada – the rape of the Sabine women – military victories -Sambre et Meuse

2) ..... braves enfants......... sur la plage. The theme of the poem is the carefree pleasures of childhood and youth. Brassens represents this with the games of children on the beach, boisterous and probably not too popular with some adults. Brassens’ song « Supplique pour être enterré à la plage de Sète », expresses his lifelong love for the beaches of the town where he passed his childhood.

3) nos fiancées .....préparaient doucement leur cœur. Events of childhood and puberty merge in this poem. The assailants would seem to be youths from the surrounding area come to make advances to their women. Although the newcomers are described as alien Saracens, the girls of Sète are excitedly preparing to accept the boys who emerge best from the encounters. Romantic love has as little place with Brassens as it had with George Bernard Shaw, whose play “Arms and the Man” also put a different cast on Virgil’s epic view. One of Shaw’s themes was the folly of basing your affections on idealistic notions of love.

4) Pavois (bucklers) were small shields gripped in the fist by the fighter.

5) Sabines. In Roman legend, the Romans attacked the region of the Sabines to forcibly capture and take away their women, when Rome had not enough women to provide brides for the native men folk.

6) deux balles crevées, trois raquettes, quatre cerceaux .... After the epic battle, it comes as a surprise that the defeated “Saracens” made off only with these childhood toys. The first amorous episodes of youth mark the end of childhood and we are too involved in the new excitement to realise that the no longer used toys that we pass on contain precious years of our life, with familiar places and vivid experiences now receding into the past.

7) Sambre et Meuse ……. La Marseillaise. These are of course great French patriotic songs to mark their victory. The army of Sambre-et-Meuse was the famous French revolutionary army, which, in 1794, turned the tide of war by defeating the Austrians and the Dutch in Flanders.

8) gué is a standard interjection found in songs and poems to express a mood of rejoicing. Larousse tells me that the word is a corruption of “gai”

9) Surgit une espèce de vague --- The responsibilities of adult life end the exhilarating freedom of youth and a most significant step is when a couple engage in what Brassens sees as the imprisonment of marriage. (See also La non-demande en mariage – Je me suis fait tout petit – Les amoureux des bancs publics etc)

10) Amplitude means “large scale”.

11) À quelque temps de là ---This verse expresses the disillusionment that life brings after the relative innocence of childhood and youth.

12) châteaux d'Espagne - Castles in Spain mean fanciful ideas.  In English we also say "castles in the air".

The views expressed by Brassens on this poem and this recording in a correspondence after Brassens' retirement

Brassens' friend Emmanuel put to him this question:

".... à propos de la chanson «Les châteaux de sable» que tu n'as je crois pas pu enregistrer toi-même. 

Je la connais par deux interprètes: Maxime Leforestier, et Valérie Ambroise, mais avec deux mélodies différentes. J'imagine qu'aucune des deux n'est de toi car aucun d'eux ne se serait amusé à refaire une de tes musiques! Laquelle des deux préfères-tu? "


The following was the answer of Brassens:«Les châteaux de sable» est un texte dont je suis assez heureux. J'ai longuement peaufiné ce poème de 78 vers, sans refrains, mais surtout, dans un rare texte où j'évoque l'enfance, la jeunesse, je pense avoir réussi à brosser une esquisse de la vie qui défile, en temps qui passe, de l'essentiel qu'une simple vague peut balayer. 

Cette chanson, sans musique, était restée dans mes cahiers au moment de ma retraite. C'est mon ami Jean Bertola qui l'a habillée d'une mélodie et l'a enregistrée le premier en 1985, avec onze autres titres inédits, sur un 30 cm intitulé «Le patrimoine de Brassens par Jean Bertola».  C'est cette version qu'a reprise Maxime Le Forestier. 

S'il y a confusion sur l'attribution de la musique et que Bertola n'en reçoit pas le crédit sur les enregistrements de Le Forestier et lors de diverses citations, c'est qu'une erreur s'est produite (l'oubli d'un astérisque!) dans la réédition du disque de Bertola en C.D.

Valérie Ambroise a enregistré trois de mes inédits: «La guerre», «L'arc-en-ciel d'un quart d'heurex et «Les châteaux de sable». Pour ces trois titres, elle a retenu des musiques de G. Bourgeois. Pour «La guerre», Valérie ignorait sans doute que j'avais moi-même composé une musique, qu'à la même époque Jacques Yvart a retenue pour son interprétation sur l'album «Bonjour la paix».

C'est un phénomène unique, je crois, et que je trouve plutôt cocasse, que près d'une dizaine de mes textes ont été habillés de deux musiques différentes et parfois même trois. («La guerre» a reçu une troisième mélodie, par Éric Zimmermann). Je ne connais pas un texte de Brel, de Ferré, de Béart ou autre qui voguent sur deux airs différents. 

Quant à ma préférence, je dois avouer que je trouve les deux musiques agréables et tout à fait appropriées et que Valérie et Maxime sont deux artistes que j'apprécie grandement, autant pour les interprétations de mes chansonnettes que pour les autres volets de leur travail. Je suis très sensible à la constance et à l'enthousiasme que tous deux ont maintenus pour diffuser mes chansons avec un très haut niveau de qualité. J'ai trouvé particulièrement attachant l'interprétation de ma chanson «Dans l'eau de la claire fontaine» en arménien par Valérie Ambroise.

Mistral gagnant – (Renaud 1998)

This song recalls the mischievous, irresponsible pleasures of childhood in France during the 1950s and 1960s –ruining your shoes by splashing in puddles to get your mum going etc. The title “Winning Mistral” was a sherbet style sweet that children bought or pinched from the shop and if it said “Winner” in the packet,you got another packet free. These were happy days filled with love, but time carries off the laughter of children.

Ah... m'asseoir sur un banc cinq minutes avec toi et regarder les gens tant qu'y en a Te parler du bon temps qu'est mort ou qui r'viendra en serrant dans ma main tes p'tits doigts Pi donner à bouffer à des pigeons idiots leur filer des coups d'pied pour de faux. Et entendre ton rire qui lézarde les murs qui sait surtout guérir mes blessures. Te raconter un peu comment j'étais, mino les bombecs fabuleux qu'on piquait chez l'marchand. « Car en sac » et « Mintho Caramels » à un franc et les Mistral gagnants Ah... marcher sous la pluie cinq minutes avec toi et regarder la vie tant qu'y en a Te raconter la Terre en te bouffant des yeux Te parler de ta mère un p'tit peu Et sauter dans les flaques pour la faire râler  Bousiller nos godasses  et s'marrer Et entendre ton rire comme on entend la mer s'arrêter, repartir en arrière Te raconter surtout les Carambars d'antan et les coco-boërs et les vrais Roudoudous qui nous coupaient les lèvres et nous niquaient les dents et les Mistral gagnants Ah... m'asseoir sur un banc cinq minutes avec toi regarder le soleil qui s'en va Te parler du bon temps qu'est mort et je m'en fous Te dire que les méchants c'est pas nous. Que si moi je suis barge ce n'est que de tes yeux car ils ont l'avantage d'être deux Et entendre ton rire s'envoler aussi haut que s'envolent les cris des oiseaux Te raconter enfin qu'il faut aimer la vie et l'aimer même si le temps est assassin et emporte avec lui les rires des enfants et les Mistral gagnants et les Mistral gagnants

Ah to sit down on a bench For five minutes with you And watch all the people If there are any. Talk to you of the good time Which is dead or which'll come back Squeezing within my hand Your little fingers Then give something to eat To idiotic pigeons Aim a few kicks at them In pretend. To hear your laughter Which splits cracks in the walls Which can cure above all Wounds that I've had. To tell you for a while How I once was: “Mino The Fabulous Bombecs” , Which we used to pinch from the shop. “Car en Sac” and “Minto Caramels” for one franc And the “Mistrals” that win a prize. Ah… to walk in the rain For five minutes with you And watch life go past If there is any. To tell you tales of the earth Feasting my eyes on you Speak to you of your mum A little while And jumping in puddles To make her grumble- Ruining our shoes And having fun. And to hear your laughter As one hears the sea Stopping then starting off On the way back. To tell of above all The “Carambars” of times past And the “Coco- boërs » And the real “Roudoudous” Which used to cut our lips And chipped our teeth's enamel And the “Mistrals” that win a prize. Ah to sit on a bench For five minutes with you Watching the sun Going down Talk to you of a good time Which is dead and I don’t care To say to you the wicked That isn’t us. That if I am crazy It’s only for your eyes For they have the advantage Of coming in twos And hearing your laughter Flying up as high As fly up the cries Of the birds To tell you in the end That you need to love life And love it even if Time is a great killer And takes off with him The laughter of children And the “Mistrals” that win a prize. And the “Mistrals” that win a prize.

The Carambars mentioned in this song

To see Le Forestier in his youth, look at this duet with Georges Brassens.
 Click the following link:

Les Passantes

Please click here to return to the alphabetical list of my Brassens selection.

THE THEME OF LOST CHILDHOOD IN ENGLISH LITERATURE

A poem in English that deals with the same theme is “I remember, I remember,” written by Thomas Hood, who was born in 1799. In Hood’s case, the contrast between the magic of childhood and the disillusionment of the later years was all the more grim, because he suffered from a painful illness from his early thirties. He died shortly before his 46th birthday. Within this sad framework, however, his picture of the joys of his childhood are very vivid’
I remember, I remember,
The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun
Came peeping in at morn;
He never came a wink too soon,
Nor brought too long a day,
But now, I often wish the night
Had borne my breath away!

I remember, I remember,
The roses, red and white,
The vi'lets, and the lily-cups,
Those flowers made of light!
The lilacs where the robin built,
And where my brother set
The laburnum on his birthday,--
The tree is living yet!

I remember, I remember,
Where I was used to swing,
And thought the air must rush as fresh
To swallows on the wing;
My spirit flew in feathers then,
That is so heavy now,
And summer pools could hardly cool
The fever on my brow!

I remember, I remember,
The fir trees dark and high;
I used to think their slender tops
Were close against the sky:
It was a childish ignorance,
But now 'tis little joy
To know I'm farther off from heav'n
Than when I was a boy