Les Divas du Dancing - Translation

Love love this song.



I was a BIG fan of the slower (and arguably sexier), 80s original by Philippe Cataldo but this sultry dance version by Kate Ryan is great too.


Les Divas du Dancing - Lyrics by Philippe Cataldo

Danse
Va tanguer sur le parquet ciré
Les violons ça fait rêver
Les yeux dans les yeux fais les tourner
et fais-toi désirer
Toi qui connais si bien le cœur des femmes
Tous les mots qui les enflamment
Elles qui le temps d'un tango se damnent
Frémissantes et parfumées
Toi, tu sais où les trouver

Dance
Go careening on the waxed parquet flooring
The violins, they make us dream
Eyes meeting eyes, make them spin
And make yourself desired
You who know so well the heart of women
All the words that enflame them
They who in the moment of a tango are damned
Shivering and perfumed
You, you know where to find them

{Refrain:}
Les divas du dancing
Les divas du dancing
Les cinglées du mambo
Celles qu'on ne verra jamais dans les discos
Les fanas du saxo
Les fêlées du paso
Celles qui pensent encore au temps du Mikado
Les divas du dancing
Les divas du dancing

Chorus:
The dancing divas
The dancing divas
The mambo crazed
The women one would never see in the discos
The saxo fans (short for saxophone)
Those mad about paso
Those who still think about the age of the Mikado
The dancing divas
The dancing divas

Danse,
Entends-tu leur désir murmurer
Le bando ça fait rêver
Fais les mourir le temps d'un baiser
Sans l'ombre d'un palmier
Toi qui fais brûler la chair des femmes
Sans jamais donner ton âme
A celles qui sous ton regard se pâment
Frémissantes et parfumées
Toi tu sais où les trouver

Dance,
Can you hear their desire murmuring
The bando makes one dream
Make them die in the moment of a kiss,
Without the shade of a palm tree
You, who can make the flesh of women burn
Without ever giving up your soul
To those who beneath your gaze, swoon
Shivering and perfumed
You, you know where to find them

Les divas du dancing
Les divas du dancing
Corps sérés cœurs glacés
Elles gardent de toi un peu de gomina
Sur le bout de leurs doigts
Quand elles ont caressé
Cette nuque bleue qu'elles aiment embrasser
Les divas du dancing
Les divas du dancing

The dancing divas
The dancing divas
Bodies close, hearts frozen
They'd keep from you a little gomina (hair gel)
At the tip of their fingers
Once they have caressed
This blue nape that they so love to kiss
The dancing divas
The dancing divas

Sans jamais donner ton âme
Sans jamais verser de larmes

Without ever giving your soul
Without ever shedding tears


I preferred hearing Philippe's version of this song because he seemed to sing it to another man.
And my interpretation of the song was that he was reproachful of this other man. The original is not a light hearted song, it has a sexy quality but it is ironic with a touch of fatalism. While he recognised and raved about the other man's exploits, he was also expressing his bitterness and reminding the man that he had no heart. So I took it as meaning that he must have been familiar enough with the man to understand his behaviours and his cold, unfeeling approach to relationships. Overall then, I saw this song as a jaded gay man's expression of jealousy as he watched his ex-lover dance with women.

I'm sure there are many interpretations but that was mine. Complex? Yes.

The End

Another one of my favourite songs from Emilie Jolie aside from La Chanson du Herisson. It is originally interpreted by Henri Salvador.

Chanson Finale ("Final Song" with my translation)


C'est un peu la fin de notre histoire
Mais surtout ne sors pas ton mouchoir
Dors petite fille dans ton grand lit
Nom Jolie et prénom Emilie
Dors, petite amie dans ton grand lit
Puisqu'il faut bien vivre sa vie

It's slighty the end of our story
But whatever you do, do not pull out your handkerchief
Sleep little girl in your big bed
Surname Jolie and Name, Emilie
Sleep little friend in your big bed
Since one must live one's life.

Nous on reviendra si tu le veux
On est là pour rendre les gens heureux
Même si on existe pas vraiment
Tu peux compter sur nous tout le temps
Dors petite amie dans ton grand lit
Puisqu'il faut bien vivre sa vie...

As for us, we will return if you want it
We are here to make people happy
Even if we do not really exist
You can count on us all the time
Sleep little friend in your big bed
Since one must live one's life...

Faites que le rêve dévore votre vie,
Afin que la vie ne décore pas votre rêve...

Let your dream consume your life,
Such that life may not consume your dream...

La Petite Fille du Troisieme by Christophe

French singer, Christophe

Ah, Christophe, how I adore your dark side.

The song, "La Petite Fille du Troisieme" (The Little Girl from the Third Floor), is one of my favourites by French singer, Christophe. One could write a script, and yes, make a film from its lyrics.

There's a cold, chaotic effect brought upon by the redundant repetition of certain words in an almost clinical, orderly manner. Since the lyrics are in first person, the main character emerges as a meticulous observer with an almost cynical focus on other people's behavior. There's a scrutiny over details that most people overlook and it hints to the character's attitude and mental preoccupations. So then, it should come as no surprise if that I tell you that this song paints the story of a psychopath, a man who describes his future victims and who evinces a guiltless detachment from his crimes by engaging in culture and refinement, that is, by listening to ballet all day.
The plaintive, romantic quality of Christophe's voice only adds to the character's eeriness.

Christophe - La petite fille du 3 (1971) sélectionné dans Musique et Clips

La Petite Fille du Troisieme (The Little Girl from the Third Floor)

La petite fille du troisième a toujours
Oui elle a toujours, a toujours, a toujours, a toujours des problèmes
Quand je la vois le matin
Quand elle va prendre son train, oui son train, oui son train
Je prendrais bien sa p'tite main
Je vois tout, j'entends tout, mais je ne dis jamais rien (x2)

The little girl from the 3rd floor, always has
Yes, she always has, always has, always has, always has problems
When I see her in the morning
When she goes to catch her train, yes her train, yes her train
I would [gladly] take her little hand

I see everything, I hear everything
But I never say anything.
I see everything, I hear everything
But I never say anything.

La vieille dame du cinquième, elle se prend
Oui elle se prend, elle se prend (x2) pour une cartomancienne
Elle a dit au monsieur, au monsieur du huitième, du huitième (x2)
Qu'il allait mourir demain
Je vois tout, j'entends tout, mais je ne dis jamais rien (x2)

The old lady from the fifth floor, She takes herself
Yes, she takes herself, she takes herself, she takes herself for a fortune teller
She told the gentleman, the gentleman from the eighth floor, the eighth floor, the eighth floor
That he would die tomorrow

I see everything, I hear everything
But I never say anything.
I see everything, I hear everything
But I never say anything.

J'habite au rez-d'chaussée et je joue du ballet, du ballet, du ballet
A longueur de journée
Quand on vient me questionner sur la dame du cinquième
Sur la fille du troisième, je réponds sans hésiter :
Je vois tout, j'entends tout, mais je ne dis jamais rien
Je vois tout, j'entends tout, mais je ne dis jamais rien
Je vois tout, j'entends tout, je vois tout, tout, mais je ne dis jamais rien
J'écoute tout, je vois tout, j'entends tout, tout, mais je ne dis jamais rien
J'entends tout, tout tout tout, je vois tout, tout, mais je ne dis jamais rien, rien.

I live on the Ground floor
And I play ballet, ballet, ballet
All day long
When they come to question me about the lady from the fifth floor,
About the girl from the third floor, I reply without hesitation:
I see everything, I hear everything
But I never say anything.
I see everything, I hear everything
But I never say anything. (Repeat ad nauseum)

Emilie Jolie: Le Hérisson - English Translation

From the age of three to four, I had a turntable with a red plastic case that I'd use to play records all day long. One of my earliest memories is a Philippe Chatel's children musical called "Emilie Jolie" that I'd listen to continuously until I knew the words by heart. I was not gifted with blonde locks and I did not have blue eyes like the lovely Emilie but as with many little French girls, I identified with her.

Emilie is basically this little girl who can't sleep at night because she finds herself all alone while her parents are out and she is terrified of the dark. I could readily identify with that. No sooner were the lights out that I had to fight the horrible products of an overactive imagination.

The narration is in third person with the narrator also directly interacting with Emilie as she flips through this book merging with each page's content into a magical universe. It's similar to Mary Poppins where the children enter into the park after leaping into one of the chalk drawings but in this case, Emilie is both inside the book and outside it, since she can still flip the pages. For each page, she meets fantastic characters each with a story and a personal song.


The first turning point of the story is the meeting with a witch.

"Il y a une sorciere dans cette histoire?" (Is there a witch in this story?) asks Emilie.
"Dans tous les comtes, il y a une sorciere et un prince charmant." (In every tale, there is a witch and a Prince charming) assures the narrator.

The witch's song is one of the highlights of the story. It is sung in the original musical by famous French singer, Françoise Hardy. She laments that she's been cruel and wicked, that being a witch has been to her detriment and she wishes someone could love her so that she could cease being a witch. Interesting psychology going on here and I can tell you that Emilie Jolie is a musical filled with double meanings so that adults along with children can both enjoy it. It's probably as deep as The Little Prince and when it ends, Philippe Chatel's last words have haunted me up to this day:

" Faites que le rêve dévore votre vie, Afin que la vie ne dévore pas votre rêve . "

basically,
Let your dream consume your life.
Such that life may not consume your dream...

It is a beautiful ending because it reminds the main character, Emilie along with every other child, to grow up honouring their dreams and their imagination. As a child, I did not understand the quote very well but as an adult today, I can see how easy it is to forget one's dreams and to let life, adult life with its adult concerns, its materialistic outlook and other "matters of consequence" take precedence over joyful fantasies. I'm determined not to let it.

Personally, I believe you can expect that level of depth from most French children's tales.

After the meeting with the witch there follows a quest to find a Prince Charming who will magically turn the witch into a kind, loving princess. Emilie Jolie must flip each page of her book and encounter one character after another asking each if they have at all seen Prince Charming. Of course none of them have but we are treated to their song nevertheless and learn a little bit about each one of them. Each character's song is well written and most are enjoyable.

My personal favourite as a child and also today, is "La Chanson du hérisson " (The Porcupine's song). Who has not met a porcupine? A depressed person who sees life through a negative lens and who only wants proof that they are worthy of love. It is easy to be rebuffed (prickled?) by their negativity and it often requires courage to overcome their rejecting ways and give them the proof they ache for. This is the lesson that this song teaches.

La Chanson du Hérisson - Lyrics by Philippe Chatel with my English translation

Refrain:
Oh, qu'est-ce qui pique, ce hérisson
Oh, qu'elle est triste sa chanson
Oh, qu'est-ce qui pique, ce hérisson
Oh, qu'elle est triste sa chanson
Chorus:
Oh, how he prickles, this porcupine,
Oh, how sad is his song.
Oh, how he prickles, this porcupine
Oh, how sad is his song.

C'est un hérisson qui piquait, qui piquait
Et qui voulait qu'on l'caresse, resse, resse
On l' caressait pas, pas, pas, pas, pas
Non pas parce qu'il piquait pas, mais mais parce qu'il piquait
It was a porcupine that prickled, that prickled
And who wanted to be caressed,ressed,ressed
Caressed he was not, not, not, not, not
Not because he didn't prickle, but because he prickled

(Repeat Chorus)

Le hérisson:
Quelle est la fée dans ce livre
Qui me donn'ra l'envie d'vivre
Quelle est la petite fille aux yeux bleus
Qui va m'rendre heureux
The Porcupine:
Who is the fairy in this book
Who'll give me the desire t'live
Who is the little girl with the blue eyes
Who'll make me happy

Emilie:
Moi, je ne vois que moi
Il n'y a que moi
Dans ce livre là
Moi, je ne vois que moi
Il n'y a que moi
Dans ce livre là,la
la la la...
Emilie:
Me, I see only me
There is only me
In this book
Me, I see only me
There is only me
In this book - I actually love this part because it has two meanings. In the first instance, Emilie is answering the porcupine's question, acknowledging that she is the only one who can help him. But at the same time, on a broader scale, she expresses her realisation that her book journey is solitary and that everything so far, has been a product of her imagination, or a reflection of herself. I love this.

Le conteur:
Emilie est allée caresser le hérisson !
Narrator:
Emilie has gone to caress the porcupine!

Emilie:
Elle n'est plus triste, cette chanson
J'ai caressé le hérisson
Emilie:
This song is no longer sad
I have caressed the porcupine

Chœurs:
Il n'est plus triste, le hérisson
Elle a caressé la chanson !
Chorus:
He is no longer sad, the porcupine
She has caressed the song! (a bit of kiddish humour there....)

Le conteur:
Mais non, le hérisson
Narrator:
No, [she means] the porcupine...

Chœurs:
Mais non, le hérisson !
Chorus:
No, the porcupine!



Here's the song, in case you want to sing along!

Le Monde est Stone - English Translation

I've loved this song since I was 11.
Garou sings it pretty well. But I can't find the female vocals I liked...and no it wasn't Celine Dion's version.
Le Monde est Stone - sung by Garou

Interesting angle on the Garou video clip. I never interpreted the song as relating to a reaction to world conflict and the devastating effect of war. Although it's probably very suited I suppose. Personally, I saw it more as a person's inner struggle to deal with their different outlook on existence, their sense of alienation and feeling out of touch with everything that other people prize. I read it more as a sort of nihilist outlook compounded by a dread for life, a thirst for feeling, perhaps underlined by the accusative "the world is stone", the world is rock hard and unfeeling perhaps. Also read it as having an existentialist theme and a message about the profound meaninglessness of everything. That sort of thing.

One great song that I still very much love.
So here are the publically available French lyrics with my own English translation.


Le Monde est Stone / The World is Stone

J'ai la tête qui éclate
J'voudrais seulement dormir
M'étendre sur l'asphalte
Et me laisser mourir

I've a head about to burst
I'd like only to sleep
To stretch myself on the asphalt
And let myself die

Stone
Le monde est stone
Je cherche le soleil
Au milieu de la nuit
J'sais pas si c'est la Terre
Qui tourne à l'envers
Ou bien si c'est moi
Qui m'fait du cinéma
Qui m'fait mon cinéma

Stone
The world is stone
I'm looking for the sun
In the middle of the night
Dunno if it's the Earth
That's spinning in reverse
Or if it's me
Making myself some cinema (expression, actually means: dramatising things)
Making myself my own cinema


J'ai plus envie d'me battre
J'ai plus envie d'courir
Comme tous ces automates
Qui bâtissent des empires
Que le vent peut détruire
Comme des châteaux de cartes

I no longer want to fight,
I no longer want to run,
Like all those automatons
Who build empires
That the wind can destroy
Like castles made of cards


Stone
Le monde est stone
Je cherche le soleil
Au milieu de la nuit


Stone
The world is stone
I'm looking for the sun
In the middle of the night


Laissez moi me débattre
Venez pas m'secourir
Venez plutôt m'abattre
Pour m'empêcher d'souffrir
J'ai la tête qui éclate
J'voudrais seulement dormir
M'étendre sur l'asphalte
Et me laisser mourir


Let me struggle (Note: talking to many people)
Don't come and rescue me
But rather, come finish me off
To prevent me from suffering
I've a head about to burst
I'd like only to sleep
To stretch myself on the asphalt
And let myself die.

Mylord - English Translation

Since I seem to be on a roll with translating Edith Piaf's songs, I thought I'd do the honours for one of my favourites. I mentioned a while ago that I've always enjoyed singing Mylord during broody moments.

Basically this song tells the story of a young girl from more seedy areas of some French port who falls in love with a high society gentleman or lord (my lord = mylord with a French accent!) She has probably stalked him enough but he's never really payed any attention to her. One day, the man's heart is broken when his equally well-bred lady leaves the port to never return. This is our young girl's opportunity to cheer up Mylord and hint to her infatuation without any hope for anything in return.

I love this song because it hints to quiet, unrequited love and yearning. It also highlights the girl's complete self-oblivion in tending to her lord's broken heart with scant attention to her own.

Here it is!

Mylord by Edith Piaf

Alez, venez, Milord!
Vous asseoir à ma table;
Il fait si froid, dehors,
Ici c'est confortable.
Laissez-vous faire, Milord
Et prenez bien vos aises,
Vos peines sur mon coeur
Et vos pieds sur une chaise

Come along Milord!
Take a seat at my table;
It is so cold outside,
It's cosier in here.
Just relax Milord
And be sure to make yourself comfortable,
Let my heart share your pains,
And place your feet up on a chair.

Je vous connais, Milord,
Vous n'm'avez jamais vue
Je ne suis qu'une fille du port,
Qu'une ombre de la rue...

I know about you, Milord,
But you, you've never seen me.
I'm only a girl from the port,
A shadow in the streets...

Pourtant j'vous ai frolé
Quand vous passiez hier,
Vous n'étiez pas peu fier,
Dame! Le ciel vous comblait:
Votre foulard de soie
Flottant sur vos épaules,
Vous aviez le beau role,
On aurait dit le roi...
Vous marchiez en vainqueur
Au bras d'une demoiselle
Mon Dieu!... Qu'elle était belle...
J'en ai froid dans le coeur...

Yet I brushed past you
When you were passing by yesterday,
You were not just a little proud,
Hell! The heavens had blessed you:
Your silk scarp
Floated on your shoulders,
You were in the limelight, (literally "you had the best role")
One would have mistaken you for a king...
You walked like a conqueror,
A young lady under your arm
My God!....How beautiful she was...
It gives my heart such a chill...

Allez, venez, Milord!
Vous asseoir à ma table;
Il fait si froid, dehors,
Ici c'est confortable.
Laissez-vous faire, Milord,
Et prenez bien vos aises,
Vos peines sur mon coeur
Et vos pieds sur une chaise


Come along Milord!
Take a seat at my table;
It is so cold outside,
It's cosier in here.
Just relax Milord
And be sure to make yourself comfortable,
Let my heart share your pains,
And place your feet up on a chair.

Je vous connais, Milord,
Vous n'm'avez jamais vue
Je ne suis qu'une fille du port
Qu'une ombre de la rue...

I know about you, Milord,
But you, you've never seen me.
I'm only a girl from the port,
A shadow in the streets...

Dire qu'il suffit parfois
Qu'il y ait un navire
Pour que tout se déchire
Quand le navire s'en va...
Il emmenait avec lui
La douce aux yeux si tendres
Qui n'a pas su comprendre
Qu'elle brisait votre vie
L'amour, ca fait pleurer
Comme quoi l'existence
Ça vous donne toutes les chances
Pour les reprendre après...

And to think that often
All it takes is a ship
For everything to be ruined
When the ship leaves...
It takes away with it
The sweet one with eyes so tender
Who could not understand
That she was breaking your heart.
Love, it makes us cry
Such that one's existence
Gives one all the chances
Only to take them away afterwards...

Allez, venez, Milord!
Vous avez l'air d'un mome!
Laissez-vous faire, Milord,
Venez dans mon royaume:
Je soigne les remords,
Je chante la romance,
Je chante les milords
Qui n'ont pas eu de chance!
Regardez-moi, Milord,
Vous n'm'avez jamais vue...
...Mais... vous pleurez, Milord?
Ça... j'l'aurais jamais cru!...

Come along Milord!
You look like a kid!
Just relax Milord
Come into my kingdom:
I heal all remorse,
I sing all romances,
I sing for those milords
Who never had any chance!
Look at me Milord,
You have never seen me...
...But...You are crying, Milord?
That...I would never have believed it!...

Eh ben, voyons, Milord!
Souriez-moi, Milord!
...Mieux qu' ca! Un petit effort...
Voilà, c'est ca!
Allez, riez, Milord!
Allez, chantez, Milord!
La-la-la...
Mais oui, dansez, Milord!
La-la-la... Bravo Milord!
La-la-la... Encore Milord!... La-la-la...

Well then Milord!
Smile at me Milord!
...Better than that! A little effort...
There you go, that's it!
Come on laugh Milord!
Come on and sing Milord!
La-la-la...
Yes, dance Milord!
La-la-la...Bravo Milord!
La-la-la...One more Milord!...La-la-la...

L'Homme a La Moto - English Translation

Remember that sinister Piaf song I was singing a few months ago? With my deep, tenebrous voice echoing against the shower walls...that song I sing regularly when I'm down, without knowing why...but it gives me such a lift!

Well it's about a delinquent and his effect on a small village.
It's this dude on a motorbike who treats his girl and all those around him carelessly. He meets his death in the end, during a violent accident.



I love this song. Amusing and terrifying at the same time! I think this song was socially relevant in the 50s or 60s when machinery and noise became the dread of previously quiet French villages (or towns)! The song has a warning quality and seems disapproving of loud noise, speed, machinery and youth's newly found freedom. It relies on stereotypes of the time, associating leather and tattoos with violence and disrespect for society. It includes what, at the time, was probably a befittingly retributive ending in response to the chaos raised by modern delinquents. I can understand why this song was so popular! The mood created by Piaf's urgent, blasting delivery is unbeatable. And what's not to like about those steamtrain sound effects and those dramatic drum rolls.

Here is my personal English translation, with French lyrics sung by Edith Piaf.


Chorus:

Il portait des culottes, des bottes de moto
Un blouson de cuir noir avec un aigle sur le dos
Sa moto qui partait comme un boulet de canon
Semait la terreur dans toute la région.

He wore motorbike pants and boots,
A black leather blazer with an eagle on the back.
His motorbike went like a cannonball
Spreading terror in the entire region.

Jamais il ne se coiffait, jamais il ne se lavait
Les ongles pleins de cambouis mais sur les biceps il avait
Un tatouage avec un cœur bleu sur la peau bleme
Et juste à l'intérieur, on lisait: "Maman je t'aime"
Il avait une petite amie du nom de Marie-Lou
On la prenait en pitié, une enfant de son âge
Car tout le monde savait bien qu'il aimait entre tout
Sa chienne de moto bien davantage.

He never combed his hair, He never washed himself,
Sludge filled his fingernails but on his biceps he had,
A tattoo featuring a blue heart on pale skin,
And inside it one could read "Mother I Love you".
He had a girlfriend, Marie-Lou was her name,
They all took pity on her, a child of her age...
Because everyone knew well how much he loved
His bitch of a motorbike above all things.

Il portait des culottes, des bottes de moto
Un blouson de cuir noir avec un aigle sur le dos
Sa moto qui partait comme un boulet de canon
Semait la terreur dans toute la région.

He wore motorbike pants and boots,
A black leather blazer with an eagle on the back
His motorbike went like a cannonball
Spreading terror in the entire region

Marie-Lou la pauvre fille l'implora, le supplia
"Dit Ne pars pas ce soir, je vais pleurer si tu t'en vas"
Mais les mots furent perdus, ses larmes pareillement
Dans le bruit de la machine et du tuyau d'échappement
Il bondit comme un diable avec des flammes dans les yeux
Au passage à niveau, ce fut comme un éclair de feu
Contre une locomotive qui filait vers le midi
Et quand on débarrassa les débris,

Marie-Lou, the poor girl, implored him and begged him
"Say, do not go tonight, I will cry if you leave".
But the words were lost, her tears also
In the noise of the machine and of the exhaust pipe.
He lept like a demon with flames in his eyes,
At the crossing it was like thundering fire
Against a steamtrain that sped towards the South.
And when they came to sift out the debris,

On trouva sa culotte, ses bottes de moto
Son blouson de cuir noir avec un aigle sur le dos
Mais plus rien de la moto et plus rien de ce démon
Qui semait la terreur dans toute la région.

They found his motorbike pants and his boots
His black leather blazer with an eagle on the back
But nothing left of this motorbike and nothing left of this demon
Who once spread terror in the entire region.

Je te Rends ton Amour - English Translation

This is my English translation of one of my favourite Mylène Farmer songs.
Laurent Boutonnat's video is also a masterpiece, as usual. I have added some notes about my personal interpretation of this song based on the lyrics/video combination.


M'extraire du cadre
Ma vie suspendue
Je rêvais mieux
Je voyais l'âtre
Tous ces inconnus
Toi parmi eux

Extracting myself from the frame,
My life, suspended
I dreamt of better.
I saw the hearth
All those unknowns,
You among them.

Toile,
Fibre qui suinte
Des meurtrissures
Tu voyais l'âme
Mais j'ai vu ta main
Choisir Gauguin

Canvas,
Fibre that oozes
Bruises
You saw the soul,
But I saw your hand
Choosing Gaugin


Et je te rends ton amour
Redeviens les contours
Je te rends ton amour
C'est mon dernier recours
Je te rends ton amour
Au moins pour toujours
Redeviens les contours
" la femme nue debout "

And I return your love,
Become once more the contours,
I return your love
It's my last resort
I return your love
At least, forever
Become once more the contours
"The naked woman standing"

M'extraire du cadre
La vie étriquée
D'une écorchée
J'ai cru la fable
D'un mortel aimé
Tu m'as trompé

Extracting myself from the frame,
The skewed life
Of a butchered woman
I believed the fable,
Of a beloved mortal
[But] you betrayed me

Toi
Tu m'as laissé
Me compromettre
Je serai " l'Unique "
Pour des milliers d'yeux
Un nu de maître

You,
You allowed me
To compromise myself.
I will be the "unique"
For thousands of eyes
A master's nude

Et je te rends ton amour
Au moins pour toujours
Je te rends ton amour
Le miens est trop lourd
Et je te rends ton amour
C'est plus flagrant le jour
Ses couleurs se sont diluées
Et je reprends mon amour
Redeviens le contour
De mon seul maître : EGON SHIELE et...

And I return your love,
At least forever
I return your love
Mine is too heavy
And I return your love
It is more obvious in the day,
[that] it's colors are diluted
And I return your love,
Become once more the frame
Of my only master: egon shiele and ....

And I return your love,
At least forever
I return your love
Mine is too heavy
And I return your love
It is more obvious in the day,
[that] it's colors are diluted
And I return your love,
Become once more the frame
Of my only master: egon shiele and ....


Video Clip




This is my literal interpretation of the video clip:

A blind woman is betrayed by a priest who murders her.

This is my critical analysis of the video clip:

I think the fact that she is blind is a signifier for naive, misplaced trust. Her blindness seems to represent vulnerability... or anyone easily taken advantage of and/or blissfully unaware of reality, often to her own peril.

Throughout her lamentations, the distressed female character makes various allusions to painting and artists, in particular, Egon Shiele. My understanding is that she likens her horrendous objectification - whether this be physically, as the blood letting would have us believe or else figuratively, in terms of her ruthless betrayal - to Ego Shiele's pornographic subjects. Perhaps the woman's conservative, innocent background does not allow her to express what has happened to her or to communicate the crime that she has suffered. So I thought maybe she employed the bleeding canvas and rigid frame eupheminism to signify herself as victim under a cruel master. In this case the French term 'master' can actually mean both an authority figure and a great painter.

And maybe those moments where she has "extracted herself from the frame", are those moments where she is able to think objectively, free of her captivity to this rigid frame or murderous love. On the other hand, when she chooses to once again "return love", she is willingly resuming her enslavement, that is, her objectification and her naive beliefs.

Could the poor woman be sadomachistic?

Anyway, perhaps I'm thinking too hard about this video... and it could be that I'm way off the mark!!

In the end, only Farmer knows the meaning of her own complexity and these are not for me to derive. Besides, I'm sure everyone will have their own interpretation.

Ya Rayah - English Translation

I used to love this song 9 years ago. Still do. But now I finally found the lyrics!





Rachid Taha - Oh Emigrant

Oh where are you going?
Eventually you must come back
How many ignorant people have regretted this
Before you and me

How many overpopulated countries and empty lands have you seen?
How much time have you wasted?
How much have you yet to lose?
Oh emigrant in the country of others
Do you even know what's going on?
Destiny and time follow their course but you ignore it

Why is your heart so sad?
And why are you staying there miserable?
Hardship will end and you no longer learn or build anything
The days don't last, just as your youth and mine didn't
Oh poor fellow who missed his chance just as I missed mine

Oh traveler, I give you a piece of advice to follow right away
See what is in your interest before you sell or buy
Oh sleeper, your news reached me
And what happened to you happened to me
Thus, the heart returns to its creator, the Highest (God)

C'est Une Belle Journée, Je vais me Tuer - by Mylène Farmer

In an interview last year, Mylène admitted that this song was originally conceived as "It's a beautiful day, I'm going to kill myself" but became "It's a beautiful day, I'm going to bed" so that it wouldn't be seen as a glorification of, or an invitation to suicide in susceptible individuals. That is, "going to bed", is supposed to be a euphemenism for suicide.

I wouldn't have guessed....
It seems such a light hearted song, and perhaps, now that I reflect on its meaning, a song with an appropriate ethereal, airy quality. Suddenly, the ascent of the balloon makes some sense.
According to the You Tube comments, Mylène created those images too... great song.
I've added my own translation because I wasn't satisfied with those I found online.

Translation of "It's a Beautiful Day"

Laying down, the body is dead,
For Thousands it is a man who sleeps,
Half full, is the amphoria,
Yet half empty, it is seen so effortlessly
To see life, from one angle (literally: the tail side of a coin)
Oh philosophy, speak to me of elegies.
Happiness, it frightens me,
To have so many desires,
And my heart murmurs, so ...

(Chorus)

It's a beautiful day,
I'm going to bed,
Such a beautiful day, that is ending,
Gives one the desire to love, but, I'm going to bed,
To sink my teeth into eternity,
It's a beautiful day,
I'm going to bed,
Such a beautiful day, so regal,
Gives, A desire for peace,
To see angels at my feet, but,
I'm going to bed, to make myself beautiful ...

Laying down, the body is dead,
For Thousands it is a man who sleeps,
Half full is the amphoria,
Yet half empty, is how I still see it,
All is said, since when it comes to love,
When things get heavy,
If the heart is light, the elegies flow, always,
The pleasures, those that last, those that don't,
You see my love,
I'm out of breath, you see...

(Chorus)

Beautiful,
Life is beautiful
Like a wing,
That one should not crease,
Beautiful,
Life is beautiful,
And I go there,
Beautiful,
Life is beautiful,
But mine ...
Her, I enter her,
Mortal one, go... (nuance: be free)

(Chorus)

Chto Ne Hvataet - Lyrics

I love T.a.T.u. And I love this song.

I love Lena's voice here, it's simply amazing.

It was difficult to find English translation, those I found contradict one another. But I don't care.

In fact, I feel more from just listening to the mood and the voice inflections and not understanding anything.

Lyrics to Chto Ne Hvataet - by tatu.


Chto ne hvatayet

Isn't this enough.

Chto ne hvatayet tebe
Chto ty prizhalas' ko mne?
Yesli by na lune
Bylo chut'-chut' tepleye

Isn't this enough for you
That you would cuddle with me?
If we were on the moon
It could've been a little warmer

Chto ne hvatayet tebe
Chto ty prilipla k stene?
Yesli by za oknom
Bylo chut'-chut' temneye

Isn't this enough for you
Are you stuck to the wall?
As if outside the window
It could've been a little darker

Ty ne uznayesh'kak menya zovut
Ya ne skazhu tebye chto ne hvatayet
Chto-to tseplyayet
Ya ne skazhu tebe, ne nado
Chto ne hvatayet tebe
Chto-to tseplyayet
Ya ne skazhu tebe, ne nado

It's like you don't know my name
I won't tell you I've had enough
Something to cling to
I won't tell you, I don't need to
Isn't this enough for you
Something to cling to
I won't tell you, I don't need to

Chto prevraschatyet tebya
Ne prevrashcayet menya
V malen'koi komnate
Stanet yescho tesneye

It changes into you
And doesn't turn into me
In a small room
It becomes even tighter

Chto zamerzayet v tebe
Bystro rastayet vo mne
Yesli by ty smogla
Prosto ostat'sya zdes'

What freezes inside you
Quickly thaws in me
If It could have been with you
Simply stays here

Ty ne uznayesh' kak menya zovut
Ya ne skazhu tebye chto ne hvatayet
Chto-to tseplyayet
Ya ne skazhu tebe, ne nado
Chto ne hvatayet tebe
Chto-to tseplyayet
Ya ne skazhu tebe, ne nado

It's like you don't know my name
I won't tell you i've had enough
Something to cling to
I won't tell you, I don't need to
Isn't this enough for you
Something to cling to
I won't tell you, I don't need to

Vremeni net i ne budet
Kriknesh' i ya vse zabudu
Chto b ne sluchilas'
Noch' zazhegayet ogni

There will be no time
And you scream and I forget everything
As if we didn't match
Night ignites with fire

I ne zhaleya davai
Lyazhem s toboi pod tramvai
I pust' vse ostanetsya
Tak kak i tam na lune

Don't give pity
We lay with you on the tramtracks
And let everything remain
As if, here on the moon

Ty ne uznayesh' kak menya zovut
Ya ne skazhu tebye chto ne hvatayet
Chto-to tseplyayet
Ya ne skazhu tebe, ne nado
Chto ne hvatayet tebe
Chto-to tseplyayet
Ya ne skazhu tebe, ne nado

It's like you don't know my name
I won't tell you I've had enough
Something to cling to
I won't tell you, I don't need to
Isn't this enough for you
Something to cling to
I won't tell you, I don't need to.

Les Mots Bleus (continued)

This is my English translation of "Les Mots Bleus".

Unfortunately, there are expressions that remain very French. e.g. "Il faudra bien qu'elle comprenne". In this context, bien has no real English equivalent, I'm afraid. Worse still, I could not find an exact translation for the word "retrouvaille". It does not really exist. Is it a reunion? Or a new encounter? Even in the French lyrics there is a fragile ambiguity about the couple's state of affairs. Do they know each other? Has she/he ever spoken to her? Besides, I've always interpreted the end of the song as narrating a chance meeting which happened after a very long time, and so perhaps this "retrouvaille" should be read as "of us finding each other again."

But to each their own interpretation. The appeal of a well written song is that it reaches out to many and what it may evoke is really up to the listener, as he or she feels and remembers.

Here it is, again, since I'm in a melancholy mood and since so much in life is left unspoken and because I also respect the magic of silence.

The Blue Words

Six o'clock on the church bell-tower
In the town square, the flowers poetise
A girl is about to leave the town hall
Each evening I await for her,
She smiles at me
I will have to speak to her
At all cost

I will tell her the blue words
The words one says with the eyes
Speaking would seem, to me, ridiculous
I spring forward only to retreat
Before a useless sentence
That would break the fragile instant
Of an encounter
Of an encounter

I will tell her the blue words
Those that make people happy
I will call her without naming her
I am perhaps, out of date
The winter wind blows in April
I love the motionless silence
Of an encounter
Of an encounter

There is no more clock, no more bell-tower
In the town square, the trees are at rest
I return by the night train
On the platform, I see her
As she smiles at me
She will have to understand
At all cost (original nuance: She will have no option but to understand)

I will tell her the blue words
The words one says with the eyes
All the excuses that one gives
Are like the kisses that one steals
There remains a subtle rancour
That may compromise the fragile instant
Of us meeting again
Of us meeting again

I will tell her the blue words
Those that make people happy
A wordless love story
Has no need for protocol
And all those long futile speeches
Would somewhat tarnish the style
Of us meeting again
Of us meeting again

I will tell her the blue words
Those that make people happy
I will tell her all the blue words
Those that make people happy
All the blue words...