Jacques Bertin - The love (making)

Original Title : "L'amour"
Year: 1968

Your belly where warmth spreads in a bench, velvet
settles itself to the brightness of my caresses
opens itself like a big fear
like a word under the sun
where would dry oriflammes
And your silent lips
that opens like chased water

At your waist, I place my lip like a cross on the horizon
My fist sinks in this silt
breath where your weakness dreams
Your breasts are going to drink at the river
between two flower beds
Of your thighs, thrown, tear
at the brambles the pleasure, the fear

Nude girl, brightened up girl
Unwinded ribbon and so beautiful
Feminine god wild and young
Supple, grace, linen and gardens
and who floats among the tulles
In the nylons and the basins
Reared up woman, rebellious woman
Quivering and the dragonflies

Only I know the tenderness
the palm layed, the sweetness
The embrace religious and well-behaved
The patience with heaviness

Only I know the insolence
and your shoulder with a golden laugh
and only I know the curve of your back with your modesty

O my wandering feline
Opened vegetale bowl
talking about space and vengeance
Spread woman, devout woman

Beauty who pants and learns
You didn't know yourself so beautiful
In your silences, your wetnesses
I'll force the oath from you

Run ! Go spread this kiss,
this rape at your scalding nape
on the benches, in the running water
and in the herbs of the salt-meadows

I penetrate the vague universe
the eternal sleep disturbed
of this estate between your legs
where flowers shiver by thousand

The heat swaying, dieing
the fever, the liana, the lip
leprosy, tide, cluster, my wife
wet from saliva and odors

Barely half-opened, glimpsed
Barely woken up a moment
This long scream of surrendered woman
where u shout your name so loudly

Love is like my journeys
With the pleasurable detours
and the city in the evening discovered
crouched, below near the bridges

The silence with the sleep,
A world where my evasive hand
looks for the last steams,
rocks the oblivion on which you get drunk

Oh my love, sleep languid
Your breasts are made drowsy in the air
and in the hems of love
Sink into the fervor

And I, I'm looking at the daylight.

Jacques Bertin - The reaches

Original Title: "Les Biefs"
Year: 1982

The evening
When you topple over in the sky
Toward your nocturnal adventure,
I'd like to remember who I'm loving.

It's too late, the reaches are closed
Would I be as lonely with the chant of the poplars
When there will be noone left on earth

The evening
When you topple over in the sky,
Hope edged with its sorrows,
I'm drawing you with my hand
The reaches of the heart
Are only asleep

The song of the trees
is the life which holds us together
I'm everywhere
Looking after you on this earth

The evening
When you topple over in the sky,
The forehead burnt to the tomorrows,
I'm the air and the sleeping wind
The reaches of the heart
tremble until the morning

It's enough for me that you know me
attentive in the shadow
I'm never lonely
You do not forget about me

The reaches of the heart
trembles until morning

It's enough for me that you know me
attentive in the shadow
I'm never lonely
You do not forget about me

Les Ogres de Barback - Pierre Perret - At the Canal's cafe

Original Title: "Au Café du canal"
Text: Pierre Perret
Year: 1977

At the beautiful Rosette's, at the canal's cafe
On the lime trunk that shaded the ball
you could read under two intertwined hearts
"Here you may bring your kisses"

I, my kisses I had lost them
And I already believed that I had kissed everything
And I didn't know that you came over
and that your new mouth was papered with them
Fortune untill now hadn't smiled on me
Over my craddle the fairies weren't leaning much
And every time I fell on a nettle's square
There was a wasp to sting me in the neck

Though my luck today is here
Under the green arbour of your bent eyelashes
When you looked at me for the first time
My old freedom started to reel
We were alone in the world in this populous dance
And with a single hand I imprisoned your waist

Your breasts were pushing again the pleats of your blue bodice
They almost won the battle
I love the sky because it's in your eyes
I love the bird because he knows your name
I love your laugh and all those curious words
that you come whispering at the collar of my jacket

And I see again your hands crossed on your chest
Your clothes thrown on a chair at the bed's feet
Your poor heart was making small sardine's jumps
When I put my head against it
God, you thank God, that's all you!
But my love for you is far more strong
Could have God slept beside you
a whole night without touching your body.

At the beautiful Rosette's, at the canal's cafe
On the lime trunk that shaded the ball
you could read under two intertwined hearts
"Here you may bring your kisses"

Pierre Perret's version:

Jacques Bertin - Luc Bérimont - Madam, at midnight (Christmas)

Original Title: "Madame à minuit (Noël)"
Text: Luc Bérimont
Music: Orchestre Jacques Mallebay
Year: 1962 (Léo Ferré's), 1982 (Bertin's)

Madam, at midnight, do you think we are still up ?
Madam, at midnight, do you think we are laughing ?
The wind of winter shouts in my ears
Land of Christmas, so white and alike
So poor, so old and so hard as well.

At the end of the night, the farms are dozing.
Padlocks drawed on the wine's flower
But the fire's flower ferments there and keeps watch
Like the sun at the hollow of the mills
Like the sun at the hollow of the mills

At the frozen streams, the stone is ready to split
In cold weather, there are no mad people anymore
The hour of midnight, that hour when we sing
will sting my heart way better than holly
will sting my heart way better than holly

I had countless loves and friends
Plaited laughs at the summer's sky
Then, here I'm alone, poking shadows
The winter's cartage took everything away
The winter's cartage took everything away

Why this Christmas, why those lights
Nothing else came but tears
I shan't bite in the bitter orange again
And the memory of you tears my heart
And the memory of you tears my heart

Madam, at midnight, do you think we are still up ?
Madam, at midnight, do you think we are laughing ?
The wind of winter shouts in my ears
Christmas land, so white and alike
So poor, so old and so hard as well.

Marc Ogeret's version:

Léo Ferré's version:

Georges Brassens - Aragon - There are no happy love.

Original Title: "Il n'y a pas d'amour heureux"
Text: Louis Aragon (1943)
Year: 1953

Nothing is ever a given to man
Neither his strength, nor his weakness, nor his heart.
and when he thinks opening his arms
His shadow is the one of a cross
And when he wants to hug his happiness, he crushes it.
His life is a weird and painful divorce

There are no happy love

His life it looks like those weaponless soldiers
Who had been dressed for another destiny
What good would it do them to get up in the morning.
Them who you find in the evening disarmed, unsure
Say those words "My life" and hold back your tears


There are no happy love

My beautiful love, my dear love, my tearing
I carry you inside of me like a wounded bird
And those there, unknowing, are watching us walk by
Repeating after me those words I've weaved
And which for your big eyes died right away.

There are no happy love

Time to learn how to live, it's already too late
Let our heart cry at night in unison
What is needed of regrets to pay a shiver
What is needed of misfortune for a single song
What is needed of sobs for a guitar tune

There are no happy love

Hélène Martin's version:

Barbara's version:

Marc Ogeret's version:

Monique Morelli - Aragon - Ferré - It would have taken

Original Title: "Il n'aurait fallu"
Music: Léo Ferré
Text: Louis Aragon
Year: 1961 (Léo Ferré's version), 1966 (Morelli's version)

It would have taken
just another moment
For death to come
But a bare hand
then came
which took mine

Who gave back
their lost colors
to the days, to the weeks
Its reality
to the immense summer
of human things

I, who trembled
Always, I don't know
from which anger
Two arms have been enough
to give my life
a big necklace of air

Just a movement
That gesture while sleeping
soft which is brushing on me
A calm breath
Less than a dew
against my shoulder

A forehead resting
on me in the night
two big opened eyes
and everything looked to me
like a wheat field
in this universe

A tender garden
In the grass where suddenly
Verbena is growing
And my deceased heart
is born again to the perfume
which makes shadow soft

It would have taken
just another moment
For death to come
But a bare hand
then came
which took mine

Léo Ferré's version
Catherine Sauvage's version:

Jacques Douai's version:


All poems written by Louis Aragon

Jacques Brel - The Town Fell Asleep

Original Title: "La Ville s'endormait" Year: 1977

The town was falling asleep
And I'm forgetting its name
On the river upstream
A corner of sky was burning
The town was falling asleep
And I'm forgetting its name
And the night, little by little,
And the time stopped,
And my muddy horse,
And my tired body.
And the night, blue to blue,
And the water from a fountain
And a few shouts of hate
Poured by a few old men
on women older than them
whose body is dozing off.

The town was falling asleep
And I'm forgetting its name
On the river upstream
A corner of sky was burning
The town fell asleep
And I'm forgetting its name
And my horse who is drinking
And me looking at it
And my thirst making sure
That it's not noticed
And the fountain sings
And tireness stucks
Its knife in my back
And I play the one
Who is his own ruler
I'm expected somewhere
Like one waits for the King
But noone is waiting for me
I know since already
That you die from chance
By quickening your pace

The town was falling asleep
And I'm forgetting its name
On the river upstream
A corner of sky was burning
The town was falling asleep
And I'm forgetting its name
It's true that sometimes around the evening
The birds look like waves
And waves like birds
And men like laughs
And laughs like sobs
It's true that often
The sea disenchants itself
I mean by this
That it sings other songs
That those sung by the sea
In children's books
But women always
Only look alike to women
And among them the idiots
Only look alike to idiots
And I'm not quite sure
Unlike one is singing
That they are the future of men

The town was falling asleep
And I'm forgetting its name
On the river upstream
A corner of sky was burning
The town was falling asleep
And I'm forgetting its name
And you passed
Unknown young lady
Within an inch of being naked
Under the dansing linen