Rien à jeter -He would not change a single bit of his girl-friend

This is a light-hearted love song written for Joha Heiman. The poet is playing the popular game of deciding the most important things that he would take with him if he were marooned on a desert island. In fact, he is selecting the most treasured parts of his girl friend’s body. He begins at the top and moves down. In the last two verses he becomes impatient knowing her charm is the whole person. On one French Brassens website, this song is placed in twelfth position in a list of the most popular Brassens songs.

Sans ses cheveux qui volent J'aurais, dorénavant, Des difficultés folles À voir d'où vient le vent. Tout est bon chez elle, y a rien à jeter, Sur l'île déserte il faut tout emporter. Je me demande comme(1) Subsister sans ses joues M'offrant deux belles pommes Nouvelles chaque jour. Tout est bon chez elle, y a rien à jeter, Sur l'île déserte il faut tout emporter. Sans sa gorge(2), ma tête, Dépourvue de coussin, Reposerait par terre Et rien n'est plus malsain. Tout est bon chez elle, y a rien à jeter, Sur l'île déserte il faut tout emporter. Sans ses hanches solides(3) Comment faire, demain, Si je perds l'équilibre, Pour accrocher mes mains ? Tout est bon chez elle, y a rien à jeter, Sur l'île déserte il faut tout emporter. Elle a mille autres choses Précieuses encore Mais, en spectacle, j'ose Pas donner tout son corps. Tout est bon chez elle, y a rien à jeter, Sur l'île déserte il faut tout emporter. Des charmes de ma mie J'en passe et des meilleurs. Vos cours d'anatomie Allez les prendre ailleurs. Tout est bon chez elle, y a rien à jeter, Sur l'île déserte il faut tout emporter D'ailleurs, c'est sa faiblesse, Elle tient à ses os Et jamais ne se laisse- Rait couper en morceaux. Tout est bon chez elle, y a rien à jeter, Sur l'île déserte il faut tout emporter. Elle est quelque peu fière Et chatouilleuse assez Et l'on doit tout entière La prendre ou la laisser. Tout est bon chez elle, y a rien à jeter, Sur l'île déserte il faut tout emporter 1969 - La Religieuse

Without her wind-blown hair I would have, ever after A hell of a job seeing Where the wind is blowing from. All is right with her – there’s nothing to discard, On the desert isle, we need to take the lot. I stop to wonder just how I’d fare without her cheeks Giving me two fine apples New and fresh each day. All is right with her – there’s nothing to discard, On the desert isle, we need to take the lot. Without her bosom my head Deprived of cushioning Would rest upon the ground And nothing is less safe. All is right with her – there’s nothing to discard, On the desert isle, we need to take the lot. Without her hips so plump What’ll I do tomorrow If I lose my balance For grabbing with my hands? All is right with her – there’s nothing to discard, On the desert isle, we need to take the lot. She’s a’thousand other things Prized by me the same But I daren’t in public List all her body parts All is right with her – there’s nothing to discard, On the desert isle, we need to take the lot. I skip some of my love’s charms And these some of the best. Your course ‘f anatomy Go and get it elsewhere. All is right with her – there’s nothing to discard, On the desert isle, we need to take the lot. Besides, that’s her weakness She hangs on to her bones And’ll never let herself Be cut up into bits. All is right with her – there’s nothing to discard, On the desert isle, we need to take the lot. She is just a bit proud And is quite ticklesome And people have to take All of her or leave her. All is right with her – there’s nothing to discard, On the desert isle, we need to take the lot.

TRANSLATION NOTES

1) Comme is here used in the old sense meaning - comment

2) Gorge means throat but sometimes has the sense of bust e.g. soutien-gorge = bra

3) Ses hanches solides - In several poems Brassens expresses his admiration for a well-rounded female bottom and wrote a full poem in its praise: Vénus Callipyge.

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE

During a conversation in the later years of his life, Brassens named this song among those he said were inspired by his love for his lifelong partner, Joha Heiman. Although it is a powerful declaration of love - he would not change the least part of her-, there is also the teasing which we come to expect when Brassens talks of his "Püppchen". He was only a shy youth of eighteen when her beauty had first captivated him. He used to gaze upon her as she passed him along the streets of the quartier of Paris, where he lived. (Fuller notes about their relationship are posted with the song: Je mesuis fait tout petit

Another love song that makes play of detachable parts of the body in the game of love is “All of me”. Here it is sung by Billie Holiday (1941)



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