The son of a composer, with brothers and sisters who had successful careers of their own in musical entertainment, Jean Sablon studied piano at the Lyceé Charlemagne in Paris. He left before graduating to enroll at the Paris Conservatoire in order to concentrate on a vocal career. He started in the cabarets of Paris at the age of 17, and was subsequently accompanied on his first album by the pianist/composer Mireille, whose song Couchés dans le foin became a great success. Later, he partnered the wildly popular Mistinguett at the Casino de Paris and boosted his career considerably. He was the first cabaret singer to use a microphone in his stage act. In the 1920s he spent time in Brazil where his recordings remain extremely popular today.
In 1937 he won the Grand Prix du Disque for the song "Vous qui passez sans me voir," written for him by Charles Trenet and Johnny Hess. That same year, he went to the United States, where he sang on live radio broadcasts for CBS and made several records in the English language. On Broadway, he worked with luminaries such as Cole Porter and George Gershwin. He returned to Paris but with the German occupation of France in World War II, he went back to America for the duration.
Jean Sablon became one of the most widely acclaimed male French singers, considered second only in overall lifetime popularity to Maurice Chevalier. His records sold in the millions around the world and he is frequently referred to as the French equivalent of America's Bing Crosby. During his career, he recorded with some of the world's top musicians, including Django Reinhardt and Stéphane Grappelli. Sablon is credited with arranging Reinhardt's debut in a fashionable cabaret in 1933. He is also recognized for his talents as a lyricist and a composer. Sablon appeared in a number of motion pictures and television films performing as a vocalist or pianist, his last coming in 1984 when he sang "April in Paris" in Mistral's Daughter, the popular American TV miniseries filmed in France.
Jean Sablon died in 1994 and was interred in the Cimetière du Montparnasse in Paris.
Ce petit chemin
Jean Sablon Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Prends la route numéro trois
Tu suis la file des voitures
Et tu t'en vas tout droit tout droit
C'est un billard, c'est une piste
Pas un arbre pas une fleur
Comme c'est beau comme c'est triste
Tu feras du cent trente à l’heure
Mais moi, ces routes goudronnées
Toutes ces routes me dégoûtent
Si vous m'aimez venez venez
Venez chanter venez flâner
Et nous prendrons un raccourci
Le petit chemin que voici
Ce petit chemin… qui sent la noisette
Ce petit chemin… n'a ni queue ni tête
On le voit
Qui fait trois
Petits tours dans le bois
Puis il part au hasard
En flânant comme un lézard
C'est le rendez-vous de tous les insectes
Les oiseaux pour nous, y donnent leurs fêtes
Les lapins nous invitent
Souris-moi, courons vite
Ne crains rien
Prends ma main
Dans ce petit chemin
Les routes départementales
Où les vieux cantonniers sont rois
Ont l'air de ces horizontales
Qui m'ont toujours rempli d'effroi
Et leurs poteaux télégraphiques
Font un ombrage insuffisant
Pour les idylles poétiques
Et pour les rêves reposants
À bas les routes rebattues
Les tas de pierres la poussière
Et l'herbe jaune des talus
Les cantonniers, il n'en faut plus!
Nous avons pris un raccourci
Le petit chemin que voici
Ce petit chemin… qui sent la noisette
Ce petit chemin… m'a tourné la tête
J'ai posé
Trois baisers
Sur tes cheveux frisés
Et puis sur
Ta figure
Toute barbouillée de mures
Pour nous observer, des milliers de bêtes
Se sont installées par-dessus nos têtes
Mais un lièvre, au passage
Nous a dit : "soyez sages!"
Ne crains rien
Prends ma main
Dans ce petit chemin
The song "Ce petit chemin" by Jean Sablon speaks about taking a shortcut instead of the usual route to the prefecture on the Route Number Three. The singer compares the busy road with a billiards table or a racecourse, devoid of any nature or beauty. He invites his listener to join him on a small path, which he describes as a whimsical route without any particular destination. The path smells of hazelnuts and is frequented by insects and birds.
The singer expresses his disdain for the smooth and artificial asphalt of the main road and pines for a more romantic and authentic journey. He rejects the idea that the old cantonniers or road workers are still needed and suggests that the small path can take them everywhere they need to go. In the end, he shares his delight in finding a connection with his companion as they take the shortcut and admire nature's offerings.
Overall, the song is a meditative reflection on the human relationship with nature and the desire for authentic experiences. Through the lens of a small path, the song encourages the listener to slow down, take a break from the hustle and bustle of life, and appreciate the whimsical beauty of the world.
Line by Line Meaning
Pour aller à la préfecture
To get to the prefecture
Prends la route numéro trois
Take route number three
Tu suis la file des voitures
Follow the line of cars
Et tu t'en vas tout droit tout droit
And keep going straight ahead
C'est un billard, c'est une piste
It's like a pool table, it's like a racetrack
Pas un arbre pas une fleur
No tree, no flower
Comme c'est beau comme c'est triste
How beautiful, how sad
Tu feras du cent trente à l’heure
You'll be going 130 km/h
Mais moi, ces routes goudronnées
But me, these paved roads
Toutes ces routes me dégoûtent
All these roads disgust me
Si vous m'aimez venez venez
If you love me, come, come
Venez chanter venez flâner
Come and sing, come and stroll
Et nous prendrons un raccourci
And we'll take a shortcut
Le petit chemin que voici
The little path here
Ce petit chemin… qui sent la noisette
This little path... that smells like hazelnuts
Ce petit chemin… n'a ni queue ni tête
This little path... has no rhyme or reason
On le voit
We can see it
Qui fait trois
Which makes three
Petits tours dans le bois
Little turns in the woods
Puis il part au hasard
Then it wanders off
En flânant comme un lézard
Strolling like a lizard
C'est le rendez-vous de tous les insectes
It's the meeting place for all insects
Les oiseaux pour nous, y donnent leurs fêtes
Birds give us their parties there
Les lapins nous invitent
Rabbits invite us
Souris-moi, courons vite
Smile at me, let's run fast
Ne crains rien
Don't be afraid
Prends ma main
Take my hand
Dans ce petit chemin
On this little path
Les routes départementales
The county roads
Où les vieux cantonniers sont rois
Where old roadworkers rule
Ont l'air de ces horizontales
Look like these horizontals
Qui m'ont toujours rempli d'effroi
Which have always filled me with dread
Et leurs poteaux télégraphiques
And their telegraph poles
Font un ombrage insuffisant
Provide insufficient shade
Pour les idylles poétiques
For poetic idylls
Et pour les rêves reposants
And for restful dreams
À bas les routes rebattues
Down with well-traveled roads
Les tas de pierres la poussière
The piles of stones, the dust
Et l'herbe jaune des talus
And the yellow grass of the banks
Les cantonniers, il n'en faut plus!
We don't need roadworkers anymore!
Nous avons pris un raccourci
We took a shortcut
Le petit chemin que voici
The little path here
Ce petit chemin… qui sent la noisette
This little path... that smells like hazelnuts
Ce petit chemin… m'a tourné la tête
This little path... has turned my head
J'ai posé
I placed
Trois baisers
Three kisses
Sur tes cheveux frisés
On your curly hair
Et puis sur
And then on
Ta figure
Your face
Toute barbouillée de mures
All smeared with blackberry juice
Pour nous observer, des milliers de bêtes
To observe us, thousands of animals
Se sont installées par-dessus nos têtes
Have settled over our heads
Mais un lièvre, au passage
But a hare, passing by
Nous a dit : "Soyez sages!"
Told us: "Be wise!"
Ne crains rien
Don't be afraid
Prends ma main
Take my hand
Dans ce petit chemin
On this little path
Lyrics © RAOUL BRETON EDITIONS, Peermusic Publishing
Written by: Jean NOHAIN, Mireille
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind