Despite the numerous biographies, many facts and events of Édith's life are shrouded in mystery. She was born Édith Giovanna Gassion in Belleville, Paris, France, the high-immigration district later described by Daniel Pennac. Legend has it that she was born on the pavement of Rue de Belleville 72 but according to her birth certificate that was at Hôpital Tenon, the Belleville arrondissement hospital. She was named Édith after the executed British nurse Edith Cavell (Piaf —Parisian jargon for "sparrow"— came from a nickname she would receive twenty years later).
Her mother, Annetta Giovanna Maillard (1898 – 1945), was a partly-Italian 17-year-old girl, native of Livorno, working as a café singer under the pseudonym Line Marsa; from her, Édith took the middle name of Giovanna. Her father, Louis-Alphonse Gassion (1881 – 1944), was a street acrobat with a theatrical past. The little Édith was soon abandoned and left for a short time to her maternal grandmother, Mena (probably a Kabyle). Shortly after, Édith's father brought the child to his mother, who ran a brothel in Normandy, and then joined the French Army (1916). Thus Édith was in contact with the prostitutes and the various attenders of the brothel since her early years, a circumstance which must have had a deep impact on her personality and vision of life.
From the age of three to seven she was blind. As part of Piaf's legend, she allegedly recovered her sight after her grandmother's prostitutes went on a pilgrimage to Saint Thérèse de Lisieux. In 1929 she joined her father in his acrobatic street performances. Then took a room at Grand Hôtel de Clermont (18 rue Veron, Paris 18ème) and separated from him, going her own way as a street singer in Pigalle, Ménilmontant and Paris suburbs (cf. the song "Elle fréquentait la Rue Pigalle"). She was about 16 years of age when she fell in love with a delivery-boy, Louis Dupont, and shortly after had a child, a little girl named Marcelle. Sadly, Marcelle died in infancy of meningitis.
In 1935, Édith was discovered in the Pigalle area of Paris by the nightclub owner Louis Leplée, whose club was frequented by the upper and lower classes alike. He persuaded her to sing despite her extreme nervousness, which, combined with her height of only 4' 8" (142 cm) inspired him to give her the nickname that would stay with her for the rest of her life and become her stage name: La Môme Piaf (The Little Sparrow). Her first record was produced in the same year. Shortly afterwards, Leplée was murdered and Piaf was accused of being an accessory; she was acquitted.
In 1940, Jean Cocteau wrote the successful play Le Bel Indifférent for her to star in. She began to make friends with famous people, such as the actor Maurice Chevalier and the poet Jacques Borgeat. She wrote the lyrics of many of her songs, and collaborated with composers on the tunes.
Her signature song, "La vie en rose" (which was voted a Grammy Hall of Fame Award in 1998) was written in the middle of the German occupation of Paris in World War II. During this time, she was in great demand and very successful. She befriended many high-ranking Germans and sang for them. It is said that she collaborated with the Nazis, too. After the war, she toured Europe, the United States, and South America, becoming an internationally known figure. Her popularity in the U.S. was such that she appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show eight times. She helped to launch the career of Charles Aznavour, taking him on tour with her in France and the United States.
The great love of Piaf's life, the boxer Marcel Cerdan, died in 1949. Piaf was married twice. Her first husband was Jacques Pills, a singer; they married in 1952 and divorced in 1956. Her second husband, Theophanis Lamboukas (also known as Théo Sarapo), was a hairdresser-turned-singer and actor, and was twenty years younger than Piaf; they married in 1962.
In 1951 she was in a car accident, and thereafter had difficulty breaking a serious morphine habit.
The Paris Olympia is the place where Piaf achieved fame and where, just a few months before her death, she gave one of her most memorable concerts while barely able to stand. In early 1963, Piaf recorded her last song, "L'homme de Berlin".
At the early age of 47, Piaf died of cancer in Plascassier, on the French riviera, on October 10, 1963. Her friend Jean Cocteau, very shocked and afflicted by her death, died a few hours later. Her body was returned to Paris where her death was only announced on October 11, the official date of her death. She was buried in Père Lachaise cemetery, Paris. Although she was forbidden a Mass by the Roman Catholic archbishop of Paris (because of her lifestyle), her funeral procession drew hundreds of thousands of mourners onto the streets of Paris and the ceremony at the cemetery was jammed with more than forty thousand fans. Charles Aznavour recalled that Piaf's funeral procession was the only time, since the end of World War II, that Parisian traffic came to a complete stop.
There is a museum dedicated to Piaf, the Musée Édith Piaf at 5, rue Crespin du Gast, 75011, Paris.
Today she is still remembered and revered as one of the greatest singers France has ever produced. Her life was one of sharp contrasts: the range of her fame as opposed to her tragic personal life, and her fragile small figure on stage with the resounding power of her voice.
Miséricorde
Édith Piaf Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Plus jamais ne rirai
Avec leurs boniments
Ils ont tué mon amant
Le bourdon peut sonner
Le curé, marmonner
C'est pas ça qui le fera
Revenir dans mes bras
Et la voix décidée
Il a dit: "Allons-y!
Faut défendre ses idées!"
Mais, malgré sa grande gueule
Et ses yeux qu'il planquait
Je n'étais pas toute seule
À chiâler sur le quai
Miséricorde!
Miséricorde!
Les petites croix blanches
Ont des dimanches
Qui ne sont pas gais
Le ciel bleu d'un petit bal
Du côté de Bougival
Dans mes yeux étonnés
Continue de tourner
Rien qu'à voir les péniches
On rêvait de voyager
Pour ceux qui ne sont pas riches
Il suffit de rêver:
Le jardin qu'on aurait
Serait plein de lilas
Et le gosse qu'on aurait
S'appellerait Jean-François
Les beaux rêves sont gratuits
Moi, le seul qui me reste
C'est l'odeur de sa veste
Quand j'dansais contre lui
Y'a plus qu'ça qui me rapproche
De celui qu'j'adorais
Mais la vie est si moche
Que même ça, je l'oublierai
Miséricorde!
Miséricorde!
Miséricorde!
The song Miséricorde by Edith Piaf is a tragic ballad about the loss of a loved one and the struggle to move on from their passing. The opening lines of the song express the singer's decision to never pray or laugh again, as the pain of losing their lover is too great. The lyrics go on to describe how the singer's lover was killed, perhaps as a result of the lies and manipulations of others. Despite the efforts of the church and its representatives to console her, the singer knows that nothing can bring her lover back.
The second verse of the song describes a memory of a happier time when the singer and her lover went to a small ball in Bougival, a village on the outskirts of Paris. The idyllic scene of the blue sky and the barges on the river offers a glimpse of the life that the couple dreamed of having together. However, this dream was shattered by the tragic events that followed. The final lines of the song reflect the singer's grief and sadness, as she clings to the memory of the scent of her lover's jacket as she danced with him. She knows that this memory is all that is left of the life they shared, and that even this will eventually fade away.
Overall, Miséricorde is a powerful and emotional song that deals with themes of loss, grief, and acceptance. Its sad lyrics and haunting melody have made it a popular choice for singers and musicians around the world.
Line by Line Meaning
Plus jamais ne prierai
I will never pray again
Plus jamais ne rirai
I will never laugh again
Avec leurs boniments
With their lies
Ils ont tué mon amant
They killed my lover
Le bourdon peut sonner
The bell may toll
Le curé, marmonner
The priest may mumble
C'est pas ça qui le fera
That won't bring him back
Revenir dans mes bras
To come back to my arms
D'un petit air affranchi
With a little bit of defiance
Et la voix décidée
And a determined voice
Il a dit: "Allons-y!
He said, "Let's go!
Faut défendre ses idées!"
We must defend our ideas!"
Mais, malgré sa grande gueule
But despite his big mouth
Et ses yeux qu'il planquait
And his hidden eyes
Je n'étais pas toute seule
I was not alone
À chiâler sur le quai
Crying on the platform
Miséricorde!
Mercy!
Miséricorde!
Mercy!
Les petites croix blanches
The little white crosses
Ont des dimanches
Have Sundays
Qui ne sont pas gais
That are not happy
Le ciel bleu d'un petit bal
The blue sky of a little dance
Du côté de Bougival
On the side of Bougival
Dans mes yeux étonnés
In my astonished eyes
Continue de tourner
Continues to spin
Rien qu'à voir les péniches
Just by seeing the barges
On rêvait de voyager
We dreamed of traveling
Pour ceux qui ne sont pas riches
For those who are not rich
Il suffit de rêver:
You just have to dream:
Le jardin qu'on aurait
The garden we would have
Serait plein de lilas
Would be full of lilacs
Et le gosse qu'on aurait
And the kid we would have
S'appellerait Jean-François
Would be called Jean-François
Les beaux rêves sont gratuits
Beautiful dreams are free
Moi, le seul qui me reste
For me, the only thing that remains
C'est l'odeur de sa veste
Is the smell of his jacket
Quand j'dansais contre lui
When I danced with him
Y'a plus qu'ça qui me rapproche
It's the only thing that brings me closer
De celui qu'j'adorais
To the one I loved
Mais la vie est si moche
But life is so ugly
Que même ça, je l'oublierai
That even that, I will forget
Miséricorde!
Mercy!
Miséricorde!
Mercy!
Miséricorde!
Mercy!
Lyrics © SEMI, Peermusic Publishing
Written by: JACQUES LARUE, PHILIPPE GERARD
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
Juan Carlos Sanchez Campo
Plus jamais ne prierai,
Plus jamais ne rirai
Avec leurs boniments.
Ils ont tué mon amant.
Le bourdon peut sonner,
Le curé, marmonner.
C´est pas ça qui le fera
Revenir dans mes bras.
D´un petit air réfléchi
Et la voix décidée,
Il a dit : "Allons-y!
Faut défendre ses idées!"
Mais, malgré sa grande gueule
Et ses yeux qu´il planquait,
Je n´étais pas toute seule
A chiâler sur le quai...
Miséricorde!
Miséricorde!
Les petites croix blanches
Ont des dimanches
Qui ne sont pas gais.
Le ciel bleu d´un petit bal
Du côté de Bougival
Dans mes yeux étonnés
Continue de tourner...
Rien qu´à voir les péniches,
On rêvait de voyager.
Pour ceux qui ne sont pas riches,
Il suffit de rêver :
Le jardin qu´on aurait
Serait plein de lilas...
Et le gosse qu´on aurait
S´appellerait Jean-François...
Les beaux rêves sont gratuits.
Moi, le seul qui me reste,
C´est l´odeur de sa veste
Quand je dansais contre lui.
´y a plus que ça qui me rapproche
De celui que j´adorais
Mais la vie est si moche
Que même ça, je l´oublierai...
Miséricorde!
Miséricorde!
Miséricorde!
Juan Carlos Sanchez Campo
Plus jamais ne prierai,
Plus jamais ne rirai
Avec leurs boniments.
Ils ont tué mon amant.
Le bourdon peut sonner,
Le curé, marmonner.
C´est pas ça qui le fera
Revenir dans mes bras.
D´un petit air réfléchi
Et la voix décidée,
Il a dit : "Allons-y!
Faut défendre ses idées!"
Mais, malgré sa grande gueule
Et ses yeux qu´il planquait,
Je n´étais pas toute seule
A chiâler sur le quai...
Miséricorde!
Miséricorde!
Les petites croix blanches
Ont des dimanches
Qui ne sont pas gais.
Le ciel bleu d´un petit bal
Du côté de Bougival
Dans mes yeux étonnés
Continue de tourner...
Rien qu´à voir les péniches,
On rêvait de voyager.
Pour ceux qui ne sont pas riches,
Il suffit de rêver :
Le jardin qu´on aurait
Serait plein de lilas...
Et le gosse qu´on aurait
S´appellerait Jean-François...
Les beaux rêves sont gratuits.
Moi, le seul qui me reste,
C´est l´odeur de sa veste
Quand je dansais contre lui.
´y a plus que ça qui me rapproche
De celui que j´adorais
Mais la vie est si moche
Que même ça, je l´oublierai...
Miséricorde!
Miséricorde!
Miséricorde!
John Bervelly
Mais en fait, ça sert à quoi de mettre d'écrire les paroles en commentaire ? CF. la définition du mot " commentaire" sur Google. Amitiés.
Peter-John de Kock
...toujours mon artiste le plus préféré de tous les temps!
Rjeanne Toussant
UNE LEGENDAIRE INOUBLIABLE MERCI MME PIAF POUR CEST BEAU CHANSON QUE TU NOYS A LAISSER UN TRES BEAU SOUVENIR INOUBLIABLE REPOSE EN PAIX LEGENDAIRE MME EDITH PIAF💕🙏⚘
Víctor Manotas
que buena canción y fascinante la calidad de las imagines
Toni Youssef
Lenda .🇧🇷🇱🇧🇧🇷🇱🇧🇧🇷🇱🇧
Gabriel Acolan
J adore, elle chante avec ses tripes, Je découvre cette merveille, je l avais déjà entendu, à l enterrement de la Môme le 14 octobre 1963, reportage de son enterrement dur you tube
robot x625
wooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooow.
Ксения Xenia
0:22 ce n'est pas Piaf
Drab Python From Cyan Vale
French stuff. Croissant. Baguette.