This is an erotic song which I have previously passed over,
but which has a contemporary topicality at a time when the top-selling novel,
“Fifty Shades of Grey” also has a much discussed spanking scene. I don’t
imagine though that the setting of the couple’s encounter in E. L. James’ book
is a Chapel of Rest, with the lady’s husband’s corpse alongside. Brassens is dealing once again with his repeated theme of death and his determination not to let his
own eventual death or any actual death suck the life out from the several decades
of living that are granted us. One
weapon in his counter attack is the free enjoyment of human sexuality, which is illustrated in
this song. Here it is presented sometimes openly but more often conveyed
through teasing innuendo and suggestion so that the song is as sensual as the audience makes it. The censor made the right (or wrong) interpretation and the song was banned. It is good to hear the audience laughter on this recording and to know Brassens' song was generally accepted in its true spirit
La fessée
La veuve
et l'orphelin, quoi de plus émouvant ?
Un vieux
copain d'école étant mort sans enfants,
Abandonnant
au monde une épouse épatante,
J'allai
rendre visite à la désespérée.
Et puis,
ne sachant plus où finir ma soirée,
Je lui
tins compagnie dans la chapelle ardente.
Pour
endiguer ses pleurs, pour apaiser ses maux,
Je me mis
à blaguer, à sortir des bons mots,
Tous les
moyens sont bons au médecin de l'âme...
Bientôt,
par la vertu de quelques facéties,
La veuve
se tenait les côtes, Dieu merci !
Ainsi que
des bossus, tous deux nous rigolâmes.
Ma pipe
dépassait un peu de mon veston.
Aimable,
elle m'encouragea : "Bourrez-la donc,
Qu'aucun
impératif moral ne vous arrête,
Si mon
pauvre mari détestait le tabac,
Maintenant
la fumée ne le dérange pas !
Mais où
diantre ai-je mis mon porte-cigarettes ?"(1)
À minuit,
d'une voix douce de séraphin,
Elle me
demanda si je n'avais pas faim.
"Ça
le ferait-il revenir, ajouta-t-elle,
De
pousser la piété jusqu'à l'inanition
Que
diriez-vous d'une frugale collation ?"
Et nous
fîmes un petit souper aux chandelles(2).
"Regardez
s'il est beau ! Dirait-on point qu'il dort ?
Ce n'est
certes pas lui qui me donnerait tort
De noyer
mon chagrin dans un flot de champagne."
Quand
nous eûmes vidé le deuxième magnum,
La veuve
était émue, nom d'un petit bonhomme!
Et son
esprit se mit à battre la campagne...
"Mon
dieu, ce que c'est tout de même que de nous !"(3)
Soupira-t-elle,
en s'asseyant sur mes genoux.
Et puis,
ayant collé sa lèvre sur ma lèvre,
"Me
voilà rassurée, fit-elle, j'avais peur
Que, sous
votre moustache en tablier d' sapeur,(4)
Vous ne
cachiez coquettement un bec-de-lièvre..."
Un
tablier d' sapeur, ma moustache, pensez !
Cette
comparaison méritait la fessée.
Retroussant
l'insolente avec nulle tendresse,
Conscient
d'accomplir, somme toute, un devoir,
Mais en
fermant les yeux pour ne pas trop en voir
Paf ! J'abattis sur elle une main vengeresse !
"Aïe
! Vous m'avez fêlé le postérieur en deux !"
Se
plaignit-elle, et je baissai le front, piteux,
Craignant
avoir frappé de façon trop brutale.
Mais
j'appris par la suite, et j'en fus bien content,
Que cet
état de chos's durait depuis longtemps :
Menteuse
! La fêlure était congénitale.
Quand je
levai la main pour la deuxième fois,
Le coeur
n'y était plus, j'avais perdu la foi,
Surtout
qu'elle s'était enquise, la bougresse :
"Avez-vous
remarqué que j'avais un beau cul ?"
Et ma
main vengeresse est retombée, vaincue,
Et le
troisième coup ne fut qu'une caresse...
"Avez-vous
remarqué que j'avais un beau cul ?"
Et ma
main vengeresse est retombée, vaincue,
Et le
troisième coup ne fut qu'une caresse...
|
The widow and the orphan, what is more moving ?
An old mate from school having died
without children
Leaving behind to the world a stunning
wife
I went round to visit the lady in
despair
And then not knowing where to finish
the evening
I kept her company in the chapel of
rest.
In order to staunch her tears and to
soothe her woes
I started to make jokes, to attempt a
little wit,
Every method is right for doctors of
the soul…….
Soon, by virtue of these facetious
remarks
The widow was splitting her sides. Thank God !
The two of us were rolling around with
laughter
My pipe was poking a bit from my jacket
Kindly, she encouraged me: Stuff it
full then.
Let no moral imperative stand in your way
If my poor husband detested tobacco
At present our smoking does not
disturb him
But where the heck have I put my
cigarette case”.
At midnight in a soft angelic voice
She asked me if I wasn’t feeling
hungry
"Would that bring him back again, she
added
To push piety until we drop with
hunger
What would you say to a frugal
collation?”
And we shared a little supper by
candlelight
"Look how handsome he is! Would’nt
y’say he’s sleeping?
He’s certainly not the one to tell me
that I’m wrong
To drown my sorrows with a good swig
of champagne."
When we had emptied the second magnum
The widow was emotional, the hell she
was!
Her mind began to run away with her a
bit.
"My God, what is there, that we
mortals have in store!”
She softly sighed, while sitting down
upon my lap
And then having stuck her lips tightly onto mine
"There, my mind’s put at rest," she
said, “I’d been afraid
That beneath your moustache so like a lady’s muff
Was a hare lip you were
self-consciously hiding….”
Like a lady’s muff, my moustache, just
imagine!
That comparison well deserved a
spanking
Hoisting the cheeky girl’s skirts not
at all gently,
Conscious of performing what was just
a duty
But while closing my eyes lest I
should see too much.
Slap ! I brought down on her an avenging
hand .
"Ouch ! You have just split my
posterior in two!”
She complained and I lowered my eyes
in pity ,
Fearing to have struck her in a too
brutal way.
But I found out after, to my
satisfaction
That this state of things dated back quite a long time:
She had told a lie! The split had been
there from birth
And when I lifted my hand for the
second time
My heart was no longer in it. I’d lost
the faith
Especially as she had enquired, the
rascal
« Have you noticed that I had a
beautiful bum? »
And my avenging hand fell back down
defeated
And the third blow was nothing more
than a caress.
« Have you noticed that I had a
beautiful bum? »
And my avenging hand fell back down
defeated
And the third blow was nothing more
than a caress.
|
TRANSLATION NOTES
(1) There is a lot of suggestive language in this verse – and the rest of the
poem, which a translator should avoid making explicit.
(2) nous fîmes un petit
souper aux chandelles(2). – An unsentimental use of funeral candles
.
.
(3) ce que c'est tout de même que de nous !" – In
her cups, the widow makes a declamation about human mortality. This is a
famous expression used by Archbishop Bossuet (1627- 1704) in a funeral
oration, (Bossuet is regarded as one of
the great orators of all time).
Bossuet’s enigmatic statement made beside a dead body is seen to express
how little our lives have to offer.
Brassens’ use would appear to be ironic, coming from a tipsy young lady
intent on making love – although, admittedly, she, like Bossuet was speaking
the words beside a dead body.
(4)
Un tablier d'
sapeur – In the 19th century, firemen in some parts of France wore black
leather aprons for protection. However
the expression has a vulgar usage for female pubic hair.
Please click here to return to the alphabetical list of my Brassens selection
No comments:
Post a Comment