Francis Cabrel (born 23 November 1953 in Agen, France) is a French singer-s… Read Full Bio ↴Francis Cabrel (born 23 November 1953 in Agen, France) is a French singer-songwriter and guitarist. Inspired heavily by Bob Dylan, he produced a significant number of albums falling mostly within the realm of folk, with occasional forays into blues or country. Several of his songs, such as "L'encre de tes yeux" and "Petite Marie" have become enduring favourites in French music. His first hit was called "Je l'aime a mourir. Others, such as "C'etait l'hiver", about the suicide of a young girl, have since been covered by other artists such as Canadian Isabelle Boulay.

Les chevaliers cathares
Francis Cabrel Lyrics

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Les chevaliers Cathares
Pleurent doucement,
Au bord de l'autoroute
Quand le soir descend,
Comme une dernière insulte,
Comme un dernier tourment,
Au milieu du tumulte,
En robe de ciment.

La fumée des voitures,
Les cailloux des enfants,
Les yeux sur les champs de torture,
Et les poubelles devant.

C'est quelqu'un au-dessus de la Loire
Qui a dû dessiner les plans,
Il a oublié sur la robe,
Les tâches de sang.

On les a sculptés dans la pierre
Qui leur a cassé le corps,
Le visage dans la poussière
De leur ancien trésor.

Sur le grand panneau de lumière,
Racontez aussi leur mort,
Les chevaliers Cathares
y pensent encore.

N'en déplaise à ceux qui décident
Du passé et du présent,
Ils n'ont que sept siècles d'histoire,
Ils sont toujours vivants.

J'entends toujours le bruit des armes,
Et je vois encore souvent
Des flammes qui lèchent des murs,
Et des charniers géants.

Les chevaliers Cathares

Overall Meaning

are crying softly by the side of the highway as the evening descends. They are cloaked in cement robes in the middle of the tumult, on the edge of what seems to be a last torment or insult. The smoke and exhaust from cars, rocks thrown by children, and eyes looking out over the fields of torture and garbage cans in front of them all paint a bleak and depressing picture. While someone above the Loire River must have designed their plans, they have forgotten the bloodstains on their robes, and they have been sculpted in stone with broken bodies and faces in the dust of their own treasure. Even on the bright billboard, their deaths are recounted as the knights Cathars still ponder their own fate.

Line by Line Meaning

Pleurent doucement,
Softly shedding tears,

Au bord de l'autoroute
On the side of the highway,

Quand le soir descend,
As the evening falls,

Comme une dernière insulte,
Like a final insult,

Comme un dernier tourment,
Like a last torment,

Au milieu du tumulte,
Amidst the chaos,

En robe de ciment.
In concrete robes.

La fumée des voitures,
The smoke from the cars,

Les cailloux des enfants,
The stones thrown by children,

Les yeux sur les champs de torture,
Eyes on the fields of torture,

Et les poubelles devant.
And the trash cans in front.