Monday, 3 November 2014

Le petit joueur de flûtiau - A royal musician puts his principles before personal aggrandizement - but whom does he represent?

Brassens tells his story of the reaction of an eminent flute player, whose talents and compositions had earned him the place as head of the King’s music, when he was offered a noble title in recognition.  It makes a charming little tale.  However, it has a deeper significance in the Brassens story.   “Le petit joueur de flûtiau“ is  Brassens’ reply to those of his friends who sought, in the early 1960s, to obtain for him  the high honour of election to the small elite cultural authority, the Académie Française


The video of this song on You tube is created by Mme Christine Mattei-Barraud, who is to be congratulated for her collage of beautiful pictures.




Le petit joueur de flûtiau
Le petit joueur de flûtiau
Menait la musique au château (1)
Pour la grâce de ses chansons
Le roi lui offrit un blason
Je ne veux pas être noble
Répondit le croque-note
Avec un blason à la clé (2)
Mon la(3) se mettrait à gonfler
On dirait par tout le pays
Le joueur de flûte a trahi (4)

Et mon pauvre petit clocher
Me semblerait trop bas perché
Je ne plierais plus les genoux
Devant le bon Dieu de chez nous
Il faudrait à ma grande âme
Tous les saints de Notre-Dame
Avec un évêque à la clé
Mon la se mettrait à gonfler
On dirait par tout le pays
Le joueur de flûte a trahi.

(Et la chambre où j'ai vu le jour
Me serait un triste séjour
Je quitterais mon lit mesquin
Pour une couche à baldaquin
Je changerais ma chaumière
Pour une gentilhommière
Avec un manoir à la clé
Mon la se mettrait à gonfler
On dirait par tout le pays
Le joueur de flûte a trahi)

Je serai honteux de mon sang
Des aïeux de qui je descends
On me verrait bouder(5) dessus
La branche dont je suis issu
Je voudrais un magnifique
Arbre généalogique
Avec du sang bleu a la clé
Mon la se mettrait à gonfler
On dirait par tout le pays
Le joueur de flûte a trahi 

Je ne voudrais plus épouser
Ma promise ma fiancée
Je ne donnerais pas mon nom
A une quelconque Ninon
Il me faudrait pour compagne
La fille d'un grand d'Espagne
Avec un' princesse à la clé
Mon la se mettrait à gonfler
On dirait par tout le pays
Le joueur de flûte a trahi


Le petit joueur de flûtiau
Fit la révérence au château (1)
Sans armoiries sans parchemin
Sans gloire il se mit en chemin
Vers son clocher(6) sa chaumine(7)
Ses parents et sa promise
Nul ne dise dans le pays
Le joueur de flûte a trahi
Et Dieu reconnaisse pour sien
Le brave petit musicien
The little flute player
The little fellow on the flute
Had charge of music at the court
In gratitude for his songs
The king offered him a coat o’ arms.
I don't want to be a noble
Answered the song-maker
With noble crest to top it all
My style would get high and mighty
They would say throughout the land
The flute player has betrayed us.

And my poor little steeple
To me would seem to stand too low
No longer would I bend the knee
Before the kindly God of home
I would require for my grand soul
All the saints of Notre-Dame
With a bishop to top it all
My style would get high and mighty
They would say throughout the land
The flute player has betrayed us

(And the small room where I was born
Would be dismal for me to stay in
I’d give up my shabby couch
For a four post, canopied bed
I would change my tiny cottage
For a sumptuous manor house
With fine grounds to top it all
My style would get high and mighty
They would say throughout the land
The flute player has betrayed us

I will be ashamed of my blood,
Of the folk I’m descended from,
They’d see me turn by back upon
The branch from which I orig’nate .
I would want a most splendid
Genealogical tree
With some blue blood to top it all
My style would get high and mighty
They would say throughout the land
The flute player has betrayed us.

No longer would I wish to wed
My betrothèd my fiancée,
I would not be giving my name
To a mere Ninon or such
I would require as my partner
A daughter of Spanish grandee
With a princess to top it all
My style would get high and mighty
They would say throughout the land
The flute player has betrayed us


The little player of the flute
Gave a low bow to the courtiers
Without noble crest, or parchment
Without glory he went on his way
To his belfry and his poor house
To his parents and his betrothed
Let no-one say throughout the land
The flute player has betrayed us
And may God acknowledge as his’ own
The stout(6) little musician.




Le Petit joueur de flûtiau  - Translation Notes

1)     au château –« Castle » in English gives a picture of a  drawbridge and turreted walls etc.  “Château”  has this meaning of course, but it has also the sense of a palace such as Le Château de Versailles.  I would prefer to set the tale in the context of a monarchy like Louis XIV’s, with an opulent king free to distribute patronage at will.

2)     Avec un blason à la clé …… - Brassens is making a play on words that would seem impossible to translate. “ La clef” is “the key” in music but “à la clef” is a figurative expression.  Robert gives two examples:
a)     « Il y a une recompense à la clé”  means “there is a reward at the end of it all”
b)     A teacher might say: “Je vais vous mettre en retenue avec un devoir à la clé » meaning ; «  I am going to put you in detention with a piece of homework for you into the bargain”
The idea would seem to be therefore that of an extra factor that comes at the end of a    process- a phrase in English would be: “to cap it all”/ “ brought into the bargain”

3)     “Mon la se mettrait à gonfler” = “My la will start to inflate”.  Apparently, the “la” number tells the pitch in which a song will be sung or played.  For example Brassens, we are told, usually played his guitar in la7.  As a non-musician, I can confine myself to the figurative meaning.  “Donner le la” to the musician means “To give an A” but the phrase has a figurative meaning of   “To set the tone/ the fashion / the scale.

4)     Le joueur de flûte a trahi- « trahir » is « to betray ».  In English and in French too, I think, it is a transitive verb needing an object. 

5)     On me verrait bouder dessus – « Bouder » means « To sulk.  The transitive verb « Bouder q’n  means ; « To refuse to talk to someone” – “To have nothing to do with someone” – “To shun someone”.  “Ils se boudent” means: “They are not on speaking terms”. (Thanks again to Le Petit Robert .)

6)     il se mit en chemin vers son clocher sa chaumine – Brassens had demonstrated the same priorities in real life.  Having taken refuge in the house of Jeanne and her husband in 1944, Brassens chose to stay on there for 22 years, even after he had achieved success and had the wealth to live in comfort in an upper-class neighbourhood.  Jeanne’s cramped house number 9, Impasse Florimont had, at the start, no hot water, no gas, no electricity, no mains drainage, but Brassens felt himself cocooned in this congenial environment.  After he moved out in 1966, he continued to miss his earlier, simple lifestyle for the rest of his life (see Auprès de mon arbre). http://brassenswithenglish.blogspot.co.uk/2008/02/aupres-de-mon-arbre.html

7)     sa chaumine –is a small cottage, -the image is usually of a thatched cottage.  It is a poetic word.

8)     The stout(6) little musician. – I use “Stout” in its older sense of proud, valiant and strong.

Brassens and the Académie Française

In the 1960s, a number of Brassens friends approached him to ask for his approval as they promoted his candidature for a vacant seat in the elite assembly of the Académie Française.  This is the illustrious body established by Cardinal Richelieu in 1635. 

The primary role of the Academie was and still remains the regulation the French language by determining the grammar and vocabulary that they are prepared to accept as correct.  Louis XIII was on the throne when it began its work and in the ever increasingly autocratic society of the French seventeenth century, it took its place as an instrument of central control in the cultural domain.  The Académie is limited to forty members, who are intended to hold their seats for life - or perhaps much  longer than that as they are known as “les immortels”

Academicians are mainly writers and famous past members include  Alexandre Dumas, Victor Hugo,  Montesquieu, Louis Pasteur; and Voltaire.  Their formal uniform features notably a long black coat and black-feathered cocked hat, richly embroidered with golden-green leafy motifs and the men wear a sword (See cartoon below).

Our knowledge of Brassens tells us that he would be an unlikely to see himself occupying a “fauteuil  de l’ Académie”.  All his life his instincts remained those of an anarchist and his constant targets were the human institutions such as the police, the military and the Church and the Academy would seem a prime example.  The group mentality of the crowd or the mob made him very uneasy.  Even small numbers banded together could threaten individuality  and he used to say: “…..à plus de 4 on est une bande de cons" He was hostile to those who attempted to assert authority over others and it would indeed have been treachery to join an elite body who sought to lay down the law for all French speaking people. 
In addition, Brassens did not identify himself with the croquants and the croquantes but with the common people of town and country.  It is in the song “Le petit joueur de flûtiau » he makes clear why he could never become an immortal of the Académie Française.

In view of this, it might seem ironical that later in life Brassens accepted  a major honour at a ceremonial of the Académie.  It was on 8th June 1967 that the Académie Française awarded him le Grand Prix de poésie in respect of the whole collection of his works.  Brassens was sponsored by  Marcel Pagnol and Joseph Kessel, who had led the campaign for  an official tribute to be accorded to Brassens, acknowledging all his works over the years.  Brassens was careful to let it be known that he had never taken the least initiative to have his name put forward. The majority of people saw the Academy’s top prize for poetry as timely recognition for a great man’s talents.  

Brassens himself was duly modest about the literary status of his songs.  He said:
« Je ne pense pas être un poète… Un poète, ça vole quand même un peu plus haut que moi… Je ne suis pas poète. J’aurais aimé l’être   ……”.  He expressed regret that he was not able to be a pure poet like the greats whom he avidly read, such as Baudelaire, Verlaine and  Rimbaud, Nevertheless he hoped that his songs might offer a simplified access to poetry.  

In fact, the many admirers of Brassens would find this modesty unjustified  He crafted his songs carefully, using many devices of poetry and gave his works true literary quality.  As I select videos from U Tube, I am struck how often French bloggers express first and foremost their admiration for the poetic quality of the songs they have seen performed.

However, after Brassens won the Grand Prix de Poesie there was a small minority that was outraged     It was said that "a music hall singer" was totally ineligible.  It must have been particularly painful for Brassens that some French satirists, with whom he would have previously assumed shared sympathies, now made him their target.

In « Le Canard Enchaîné » of the 14 juin 1967, Yvan Audouard published his mocking version of Brassens’ award ceremony at the Académie.  In his piece there are teasing reminders of Brassens’ earlier declarations, a few years earlier in “Le petit joueur de flûtiau”. The satirist has not the least doubt that “Le joueur de flûte a trahi”,  and offers his explanation for this betrayal.  This is not flattering: he claims that  Brassens’ health problems have led to a decline in his mental faculties: 
"Brassens, en ce moment, il a des ennuis avec ses rognons. Il a plus tout à fait sa tête à lui. Et puis il est si brave. Il osera pas dire non ».   

“Brave” was the word Brassens used in the last line of his song to commend the little flautist, and Audouard is pointing to a betrayal of the principles in these lines:
Nul ne dise dans le pays
Le joueur de flûte a trahi
Et Dieu reconnaisse pour sien
Le brave petit musicien.


The article in the « Canard Enchaîné » asserts  that the Grand Prix of the French Academy is in some way the anti-chamber of the illustrious body.  In accordance with this contention,  a cartoon was published showing Brassens  wearing the distinctive outfit of an Academician.  In reality Brassens was never elected to the Academy and never sought to be and was certainly never the man to wear this costume.




The writings of Yvan Audouard were well regarded and his humour is described as facetious rather than malicious.  Brassens may have been amused by it. However the description of Brassens’ medical problems remains very sad.  He was certainly not in mental decline but he was a very sick man.  He had suffered from kidney problems for many years.  In the previous month – June 1967- he had been taken seriously ill and had undergone surgery for a second time.  In the bad periods, he performed with an ambulance waiting at the stage door and the perspiration,  in which he was bathed on stage,  was attributable to his condition as well as to his habitual stage fright.  This detail is not easy to pass over with laughter.


Also among the critics at this time were lesser poets who felt themselves more qualified for the award.  In a famous little rhyme, JonathanSwift had once said that all poets should expect such irritation from their inferiors:

So naturalists observe, a flea
Has smaller fleas that on him prey;
And these have smaller still to bite 'em,
And so proceed ad infinitum.
Thus every poet in his kind
Is bit by him that comes behind.
Jonathan Swift, Poetry, A Rhapsody




Thursday, 9 October 2014

Le fantôme - Brassens extremely intimate encounter with a ghost



This is the amusing story of his own very vivid encounter with a ghost and their fleeting relationship - very Brassensesque  !






C'était tremblant, c'était troublant(1),
C'était vêtu d'un drap tout blanc,
Ça présentait tous les symptômes,
Tous les dehors(2) de la vision,
Les faux airs de l'apparition,
En un mot, c'était un fantôme !

À sa manière d'avancer,
À sa façon de balancer
Des hanches quelque peu convexes(3),
Je compris que j'avais affaire
À quelqu'un du genr' que j'préfère
À un fantôme du beau sexe.

"Je suis un p'tit Poucet perdu (4),
Me dit-ell', d'un' voix morfondue(5),
Un pauvre fantôme en déroute(6).
Plus de trace des feux follets,
Plus de trace des osselets(7)
Dont j'avais jalonné ma route !


"Des poèt's sans inspiration
Auront pris - quelle aberration -
Mes feux follets pour des étoiles.
De pauvres chiens de commissaire
Auront croqué - quelle misère ! -
Mes oss'lets bien garnis de moelle.

"À l'heure où le coq chantera,
J’aurai bonn' mine avec mon drap
Plein de faux plis et de coutures !
Et dans ce siècle profane où
Les gens ne croient plus guère à nous(8),
On va crier à l'imposture. "

Moi, qu'un chat perdu fait pleurer,
Pensez si j'eus le cœur serré
Devant l'embarras du fantôme.
"Venez, dis-je en prenant sa main,
Que je vous montre le chemin,
Que je vous reconduise at home."

L'histoire finirait ici
Mais la brise, et je l'en r'mercie,
Troussa le drap de ma cavalière(9)...
Dame, il manquait quelques oss'lets,
Mais le reste, loin d'être laid,
Était d'un' grâce singulière.

Mon Cupidon, qui avait la
Flèche facile en ce temps-là,
Fit mouche(10) et, le feu sur les tempes,
Je conviai, sournoisement(11),
La belle à venir un moment
Voir mes icônes, mes estampes(12)...

"Mon cher, dit-elle, vous êtes fou !
J'ai deux mille ans de plus que vous...
— Le temps, madam', que nous importe !"
Mettant le fantôm' sous mon bras,
Bien enveloppé dans son drap,
Vers mes pénates(13) je l'emporte !


Eh bien, messieurs, qu'on se le dise :
Ces belles dames de jadis
Sont de satanées(14) polissonnes(15),
Plus expertes dans le déduit(16)
Que certain's dames d'aujourd'hui,
Et je ne veux nommer personne(17) !

Au p'tit jour on m'a réveillé,
On secouait mon oreiller
Avec un' fougu' plein' de promesses.
Mais, foin des délic's de Capoue !
C'était mon père criant : "Debout !
Vains dieux, tu vas manquer la messe !"

Mais, foin des délic's de Capoue !
C'était mon père criant : "Debout !
Vains dieux, tu vas manquer la messe !"

It was trembling, it was troubling,
It was dressed in sheet of pure white,
It presented all the symptoms,
All the aura of a vision,
The false airs of an apparition,
In short, it was indeed a ghost!  

By the way it moved towards me,
By the manner in which it swayed
Its hips a wee bit rounded
I understood I was dealing
With someone o’ the gender I prefer
With a ghost of the fair sex.  

"I'm a P'tit Poucet castaway,
She tells me in crestfallen tones,
A poor ghost totally vanquished."
No trace left o’ will-o’-the-wisps
No trace left of the tiny bones
With which I had marked out my route!  


"Poets lacking inspiration
Seem to have mistaken- how wrong –
My will ‘f the wisps for clustered stars.
Some poor police dogs on the chase
Seem to have gobbled – how awful! –
My bones well furnished with marrow.  

"By the time the first cock will crow,
I will look a sight with my drape
All full of wrong creases and torn!"
And these profane times we live in
When folk scarce believe in us still,
They will shout that I'm just a fake.”

"I, whom a lost cat moves to tears
Think how my heart was afflicted
Faced with the ghost’s predicament.
"Come along, I said taking her hand,
Allow me to show you the way
Let me take you back to your home."  

The story would finish right here
But the breeze, and my thanks for it,
Parted the drape of my companion...
Damn, a few small bones were missing,
But the rest, far from be’ng ugly,
Was of exceptional grace.  

My Cupid, who was very slick
With his arrows in those days,
Hit the mark and my temples fired,
I invited, insidiously,
The beauty to come a moment
To see my icons, n’ engravings...  

"My dear”, she said “you're crazy!
I’m two thousand years more than you...”
“- Time, madam', what does that matter!"
Putting the ghost under my arm,
Well wrapped up in her drapery
To my family home I took her!   


Well, gentlemen, let it be told:
These beautiful ladies of old
Are the hell of sexy devils,
More expert in art of loveplay
Than certain ladies of today,
And I’m not naming anyone! 

 At first light I was awoken,
By some-one shaking my pillow
With an ardour full of promise.
But ,pon the hay of Capua!
T’was my father shouting: "Get up!
"Yee gods, you're going to miss mass!"  

But ,pon the hay of Capua!
T’was my father shouting: "Get up!
"Yee gods, you're going to miss mass!"  






Le Fantôme - Translation notes
1)               tremblant, c'était troublant – Brassens is using an effective alliteration and as both words are used in English we can retain this
2)               les dehors de la vision – « Les dehors » are the outward appearances, e.g. Robert quotes : « sous des dehors aimables, il est dur » = under a friendly exterior, he is a hard man.  As I will need synonyms for the word appearance, I note these options : airs- (false) front – mannerism - putting on airs – show – aura – semblance – bearing – effect – feeling – presence  - look.
3)               quelque peu convexes, - Brassens was great admirer of a nicely rounded bottom see VénusCallipyge

4)               un p'tit Poucet perdu – to describe how the ghost is lost and alone, Brassens relates her to the character, of an ancient fairy tale, well-known in France,.  This tale had existed in the spoken tradition for centuries at the time in the 17th century when it was translated and adapted by Charles Perrault   Petit Poucet is the main character in this tale.  He and his brothers and sisters were taken out into the forest by their parents, who could not afford to keep them, with the intention of losing them so that they would be killed and eaten by the fierce animals and ogres that inhabited it.  (Like many of the traditional fairy-tales, it is horrific and sadistic.)
5)               d'un' voix morfondue – « morfondu » means « dejected »- « crestfallen »
6)               en déroute - -« mettre en déroute » means to rout/ to put to flight
7)                      osselets in both English and French are arthritic lumps on a horse’s fetlock.  There is a word    “ossicles”, which are small bones of the middle ear.  In the story of Petit Poucet, Petit Poucet knowing his parents’s intentions dropped a trail of pebbles so that he could retrace his steps to get back home.  It seems that Brassens is using “osselets” to mean little bones and he pictures the alluring skeleton ghost leaving her track by using her own tiny bones.  At one point in the tale Petit Poucet chose items for his track that were eaten by the animals of the forest
8)               The ghost is justified in saying that not many people believe in ghosts these days, but a British T.V. show called “Most Haunted” wins a big viewing audience.
9)               Cavalière – literally- female dancing partner.
10)            Fit mouche – « Faire mouche » means to hit the bulls-eye, to score, to hit home.
11)            Sournoisement – sournois means deceitful- underhand
12)            Voir mes icônes, mes estampes -  The phrase "Want to come up and see my etchings?" is a sexual euphemism by which a person entices someone to come back to their place with an offer to look at something artistic, but with ulterior motives.  Wikipedia gives the full history at this link. 
13)            mes pénates – In Ancient Rome the Penates were the gods of the household and they were worshipped.  The word comes from “Penus” – a Latin word for food (more usually alimentum). The French use “pénates” as a figurative expression for home as in this poem.  Robert quotes the example: "regagner ses pénates"- to go back home.
14)            Satanées – « satané » is an oath such as “blasted” – “damn”- “confounded”
15)            Polissonnes – polisson means naughty as in “naughty child ». but as in English can have the sense of saucy – randy – somewhat sexy e.g. you may be told – “There were some naughty goings on at the party last night.”
16)            le déduit = enjoyment/ act of lovemaking.  In old French « déduire » had the sense of « divertir”. 
17)   Et je ne veux nommer personne -  I strongly suspect that the person, whom he would not name, would be in the wings as he sang this song.  Joha Heiman, who was his closest companion in his later years, seems to have lost interest in the physical side of their relationship, while keeping a close eye to ensure that Brassens did not find consolation elsewhere - see- Je me suis fait tout petit    Brassens makes repeated reference to his sexual deprivation in his songs - see Aupres de mon arbre.
18)    un' fougu' – la fougue means- ardour- exhibiting a fiery, lively spirit.
19)  Capua is a city in Campania, Southern Italy.  After Hannibal’s rout of the Roman army at Cannae in 216 BC, he allowed his army a period of rest there, before his final assault on Rome.  The Roman historian, Livy, states that the delights of the town and its ladies, were so great that his army was not in fit shape for battle afterwards- hence Brassens choice of oath after an apparent night of sensual indulgence. (N.B.Other historians maintain that Hannibal’s men fought equally hard after their winter break in Capua and so it probably did them no harm)                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      Brassens and death
Death was a major theme -some claim the major theme- of Brassens’ songs.  It is said that all his life he was attracted to cemeteries and enjoyed going to funerals, even of those with whom he did not have any close connection.

In this song, he meets one of the dead and together they enjoy close relations, but at the very end it turns out to have been nothing but a strange dream that he had had in his early youth, when he was still living at home and was still a practising Catholic under the strict religious discipline of his mother.  

As it is a dream about a ghost there is a temptation to use the word "nightmare", but the way Brassens tells it, in spite of the oddity, it is more like the "Sweet dreams" we wish each other at bedtime.  One is bound to reflect that some of the sweetest moments of life are those that you waken up from. 

In this boyhood dream, as retold by the older man, there are ideas on death and the afterlife that are found in quite a number of other Brassens songs.

The idea of continuing sexuality after death is found in his song Oncle Archibald, where he consoles himself that his Uncle’s sudden death was the instant occasion for his sensual matrimonials with the female angel of death.  Similarly when he envisages his own death and burial in Supplique pour être enterré à la plage de Sète, he imagines himself appreciating the experience when ladies come to use the mound of his seaside grave as a seat, when they change into bikinis to go bathing.

Although Brassens had given up his Catholic religion, he seemed to take for granted the existence of an afterlife.  However, whereas the traditional Christian concept of heaven is the medieval ideal representing the power and magnificence of the elite, with king and judges in palatial settings, Brassens’ world of the dead is a relaxing, everyday and democratic place, Here he can at last live without the threat of mortality, that had haunted him all of his living days.  Luxuriously,he can imagine spending eternity on a pedalo off the beach at Sète.  According to "le Phantome", Georges Brassens had the same instinctive feeling at the age of sixteen or seventeen. 




I think that Brassens would have sympathised with the great American poet, Emily Dickinson, who had a vision of heaven during one of her attacks of epilepsy and  found it such an ordinary understated place, in spite of its absolute beauty and total peace.  She describes her experience in the following poem:

I Went To Heaven :
I went to heaven, -

'Twas a small town,

Lit with a ruby,

Lathed with down.

Stiller than the fields
At the full dew,
Beautiful as pictures
No man drew.
People like the moth,
Of mechlin, frames,
Duties of gossamer,
And eider names.
Almost contented
I could be
'Mong such unique
Society.



 I have made a brief study of this poem on my Carla Bruni site; To access this site and to hear Carla Bruni's song adaptation please click the following link:I wentto heaven











Thursday, 25 September 2014

Le vent - A lively song that celebrates Le Pont Des Arts in Paris

This is a very jolly, lively song, not too serious I would think, in which Brassens celebrates one of the most famous landmarks of Paris – the footbridge over the Seine called Le Pont des Arts.  The following photo beautifully captures its setting in the heart of Paris. 



For history of the bridge click this link to the Wikipediaarticle.  

Brassens is amused that the wind, no respecter of persons of whatever kind, mischievously strikes the bridge  with its strong gusts, discomforting and embarrassing stuffy people of all social classes.





- Le vent
(Refrain)
Si , par hasard ,
Sur l' pont des Arts ,
Tu crois's le vent , le vent fripon ,
Prudenc' , prends garde à ton jupon !
Si , par hasard ,
Sur l' pont des Arts ,
Tu crois's le vent , le vent maraud ,
Prudent , prends garde à ton chapeau !

Les jean-foutre et les gens probes
Médis'nt du vent furibond
Qui rebrousse les bois ,
Détrouss' les toits ,
Retrouss' les robes ...
Des jean-foutre et des gens probes ,
Le vent , je vous en réponds ,
S'en soucie , et c'est justic' ,
comm' de colin-tampon

(Refrain)
Si, par hasard,
Sur l' pont des Arts,
Tu crois's le vent, le vent fripon,
Prudenc', prends garde à ton jupon !
Si, par hasard,
Sur l' pont des Arts,
Tu crois's le vent, le vent maraud,
Prudenc', prends garde à ton chapeau !


Bien sûr , si l'on ne se fonde
Que sur ce qui saute aux yeux ,
Le vent semble une brut'
raffolant de nuire à tout l' monde
Mais une attention profonde
Prouv' que c'est chez les fâcheux
Qu'il préfèr' choisir les victim's de ses petits jeux

(Refrain)
Si, par hasard,
Sur l' pont des Arts,
Tu crois's le vent, le vent fripon,
Prudenc', prends garde à ton jupon !
Si, par hasard,
Sur l' pont des Arts,
Tu crois's le vent, le vent maraud,
Prudenc', prends garde à ton chapeau !

The wind
(Refrain)
If, by some chance,
On th’ Pont des Arts,
You meet the wind, the impish wind
Take care, hold tight onto your skirt!
If by some chance,
On th’ Pont des Arts
You meet the wind, the rascal wind
Watch out, hold tight onto your hat!

The prim folk and the dishevelled
Malign the furious wind
Which lifts the woodwork,
Strips tiles off roofs,
Blows dresses high….
Of prim folk and the dishevelled ,
The wind,  I guarantee you,
Frets about it, and quite rightly,
Not in the slightest bit.

(Refrain)
If, by some chance,
On th’ Pont des Arts,
You meet the wind, the impish wind
Take care, hold tight onto your skirt!
If by some chance,
On th’ Pont des Arts
You meet the wind, the rascal wind
Watch out, hold tight onto your hat!


Of course if you base yourself on
Only your first impression
Then the wind seems to be a brute
Crazy to do everyone harm
But a deep examination
Proves it's  from the most quick tempered  
He prefers to choose the victims of his little games.

(Refrain)
If, by some chance,
On th’ Pont des Arts,
You meet the wind, the impish wind
Take care, hold tight onto your skirt!
If by some chance,
On th’ Pont des Arts
You meet the wind, the rascal wind
Watch out, hold tight onto your hat!


Georges Brassens - 1953 - Les amoureux des bancs publics


Le Vent - Translation Notes (The Vocabulary)
crois's le vent ,= (Croiser quelque chose) to chance to run into/ to bump into something - to pass someone or something coming in the opposite direction.
le vent fripon - the mischievous/ cheeky wind
le vent maraud – the rascally wind
Jean-foutre – My Petit Larousse tells me that "Je m'en foutisme" = insouciance.  that means not giving a care about anything.
des gens probes ,  upstanding upright right-minded. (  There is a contrast here that can make you think that  Brassens is, typically, making a reference to social disparity.   In this context, I think though, that he is merely saying here that the two extremes of contrasting dress styles reveal the complete range of people picked on by the mischievous wind.)
 Médis'nt du vent  (Médire de) –slander –speak ill of
vent furibond – furious – livid – angry wind
rebrousse les bois – brush up (e.g. hair) in the wrong direction
Détrouss' les toits – Strip the roofs -Détrousser means to rob violently (eg in a hold up)- to fleece you of your possessions
Retrouss' les robes – hitch up/ hike up dresses – roll up (sleeves)
Il ne soucie pas de- he does not care about - he has no regard to
colin-tampon  a nothing – a trifle – a thing of no importance – 
répondre de qch – to vouch for something
cela saute aux yeux – it sticks out a mile – it’s quite obvious – you can’t miss it
raffolant de – raffoler de means – to be mad about – to be crazy about- to be wild about
fâcheux – upsetting – annoying ie something that is a nuisance or a pain – disagreeable/ unpleasant – unfortunate/ untoward.  I use "bad tempered." It is self-evident that those who, because their clothing has been violently blown about, become very annoyed or angry, will, at that moment at least, be the most bad tempered.  This is Brassens' little joke.

The following photo shows two characteristics of the bridge- the venue for young romance and the unpredictable gusts of wind:



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Notes on the classics of French literature. During my years of teaching, I wrote thousands of pages for my students. Preferring not to discard all these years of work, I am posting them on the Internet as a resource for teachers and students and I am using my blogsite as the portal in order to give access to the individual books. During my university course, I was an Assistant for one year in Arras and my nostalgia for Georges Brassens stems from these happy days- now long gone- when his songs were first being recorded and he was all the rage among the student surveillants. When I opened this Blogsite many years ago, I used David Barfield, my maternal family name, as my Internet alias. My actual name is David Yendley and if any of my past students come across this site, I send them my best wishes. They were great company to be with.