He was uncompromising when composing his songs. His tactical method of addressing issues was profound and often humorous, making him a unique and effective figure in the French community.
Brassens, born in 1921 in the small Mediterrenean port of Sete, wanted to be a poet. He realized very early however that poetry in the 20th century could hardly put bread on the table and instead set himself to become a singer.
He is much less famous internationally than contemporaries like Charles Aznavour, Edith Piaf and Yves Montand, as much of the impact of his songs came from the lyrics, which proved difficult to translate into other languages. He loved the Middle Ages and used a great deal of Old French vocabulary, as well as many classical - ie., Latin and Greek - references. Few people, even in France, possess the background to fully understand his songs.
Yet he was at the same time a hugely popular singer and many of his songs still carry a lot of appeal and relevance. In this sense, he can be compared to Boris Vian, to Jacques Brel, and to a lesser extent to Serge Gainsbourg.
He was very sophisticated, yet at the same time used profanity liberally. While he wasn't politically engaged, he was nevertheless unambiguously a leftist, many of his songs carrying blatant and buoyant anarchist overtones.
While his music was initially quite primitive, the 1950's St-Germain-des-Pres influence quickly made itself felt and while subdued and - in his mind - always secondary to the lyrics, it became increasingly sophisticated - to the point that many of his songs have been covered and reinterpretated by jazzmen (see for instance this UK site: www.projetbrassens.eclipse.co.uk)
He died in 1981, but up to this date (2006) there are few French people - including most of those born since - who can't sing along to his most famous song, Les Copains d'abord ("Friends foremost") or his "Bancs public" ("Public Benches").
For those interested, this site carries a number of (quite good) English tranlations of his songs: www.brassens.org
Il n'y a pas d'amour heureux
Georges Brassens Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Ni sa faiblesse ni son cœur, et quand il croit
Ouvrir ses bras son ombre est celle d'une croix
Et quand il veut serrer son bonheur il le broie
Sa vie est un étrange et douloureux divorce
Il n'y a pas d'amour heureux
Sa vie elle ressemble à ces soldats sans armes
À quoi peut leur servir de se lever matin
Eux qu'on retrouve au soir, désarmés, incertains
Dites ces mots ma vie et retenez vos larmes
Il n'y a pas d'amour heureux
Mon bel amour, mon cher amour, ma déchirure
Je te porte dans moi comme un oiseau blessé
Et ceux-là sans savoir nous regardent passer
Répétant après moi les mots que j'ai tressés
Et qui pour tes grands yeux tout aussitôt moururent
Il n'y a pas d'amour heureux
Le temps d'apprendre à vivre il est déjà trop tard
Que pleurent dans la nuit nos cœurs à l'unisson
Ce qu'il faut de regrets pour payer un frisson
Ce qu'il faut de malheur pour la moindre chanson
Ce qu'il faut de sanglots pour un air de guitare
Il n'y a pas d'amour heureux
Georges Brassens's "Il n'y a pas d'amour heureux" is a song that reflects on the complexities of human emotions, especially love. The opening lines of the song describe how nothing in life is guaranteed for humans, not even their strength, weaknesses, or heart. The lyrics emphasize the notion that even when people open their arms to love, they are met with the shadow of a cross, and when they try to hold on to their happiness, they crush it. The lines "sa vie est un étrange et douloureux divorce" translate to 'their life is a strange and painful divorce,' which adds to the overall theme of the song about how life and love can be unpredictable and often painful.
The second verse uses a soldier metaphor to express the uncertainty of life and love. The analogy compares life to a soldier without a weapon, dressed for a different kind of battle. In the morning, the soldier wakes up with no direction, unsure of what each day has in store for them. The verse ends with the phrase "il n'y a pas d'amour heureux," reminding the listener that love, just like life, is unpredictable and seldom satisfying.
The final verse speaks of the inevitable end to life and love, emphasizing that by the time people learn to live, it's already too late. The lines "que pleurent dans la nuit nos cœurs à l'unisson" mean 'our hearts cry together in the night.' The lyrics convey the pain and regret that often come with love, and the price one pays for even the smallest moment of happiness.
Overall, "Il n'y a pas d'amour heureux" speaks to the complexity and unpredictability of human emotions. It's a commentary on the human condition and the reality that nothing in life is certain, not even love.
Line by Line Meaning
Rien n'est jamais acquis à l'homme, ni sa force
Man can never truly possess anything, not even his own strength.
Ni sa faiblesse ni son cœur, et quand il croit
Not even his own weaknesses or emotions, and just when he thinks he has control,
Ouvrir ses bras son ombre est celle d'une croix
His embrace feels more like a cross he bears,
Et quand il veut serrer son bonheur il le broie
And when he tries to hold onto happiness, he ends up crushing it.
Sa vie est un étrange et douloureux divorce
His life feels like a strange and painful separation,
Il n'y a pas d'amour heureux
There is no such thing as happy love.
Sa vie elle ressemble à ces soldats sans armes
His life resembles that of unarmed soldiers,
Qu'on avait habillés pour un autre destin
Dressed for a destiny other than the one they face.
À quoi peut leur servir de se lever matin
What good is it for them to wake up in the morning,
Eux qu'on retrouve au soir, désarmés, incertains
When they find themselves in the evening, defenseless and unsure.
Dites ces mots ma vie et retenez vos larmes
Say these words, my life, but hold back your tears.
Il n'y a pas d'amour heureux
There is no such thing as happy love.
Mon bel amour, mon cher amour, ma déchirure
My beautiful love, my dear love, my heartbreak,
Je te porte dans moi comme un oiseau blessé
I carry you within me like a wounded bird,
Et ceux-là sans savoir nous regardent passer
And those who do not understand watch us go by,
Répétant après moi les mots que j'ai tressés
Repeating the words I have woven,
Et qui pour tes grands yeux tout aussitôt moururent
But they died the moment they reached your eyes.
Il n'y a pas d'amour heureux
There is no such thing as happy love.
Le temps d'apprendre à vivre il est déjà trop tard
By the time we learn how to live, it is already too late,
Que pleurent dans la nuit nos cœurs à l'unisson
Our hearts cry out together in the night,
Ce qu'il faut de regrets pour payer un frisson
What we need to feel a thrill is a lot of regret,
Ce qu'il faut de malheur pour la moindre chanson
What we need to write even the smallest song is a lot of sadness,
Ce qu'il faut de sanglots pour un air de guitare
And what it takes to create a guitar melody is a lot of tears.
Il n'y a pas d'amour heureux
There is no such thing as happy love.
Lyrics © WARNER CHAPPELL MUSIC FRANCE
Written by: Georges Brassens, Louis Aragon
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
@amicafragile1
Traduzione Italiana di Marzio Maria Cimini, 2007
Niente è mai conquistato dalluomo, non la sua forza
Non la sua debolezza e neppure il suo cuore e quando
Apre le braccia la sua ombra è quella di una croce
E quando vuole stringere la sua felicità la frantuma.
La sua vita è uno strano e doloroso divorzio.
Non esiste amore felice.
La sua vita assomiglia a quei soldati senzarmi
Che si erano preparati per un altro destino.
A cosa gli serve alzarsi al mattino?
Loro, che a sera ritrovi indolenti e confusi.
Vita mia, dite queste parole e trattenete le lagrime.
Non esiste amore felice.
Mio bellamore, mio caro amore, mia lacerazione
Io ti porto dentro di me come un uccellino ferito
E gli altri, senza sapere, ci guardano passare
Ripetendo dopo di me le parole che ho tessuto
E che per questi tuoi grandocchi sono morti senza esitazione.
Non esiste amore felice.
E già troppo tardi per imparare a vivere.
Che piangano allunisono i nostri cuori nella notte
Un po dinfelicità per una canzonetta
Un po di rimpianti per pagare un brivido
Un po di singhiozzi per due accordi di chitarra.
Non esiste amore felice.
Non cè amore che non sia anche dolore
Non cè amore in cui non ci si ammacca
Non cè amore in cui non si appassisce
E non meno daltri amori e lamore della Patria
Non cè amore che non viva di lagrime.
Non esiste amore felice.
@erosi5974
Translation.
THERE IS NO HAPPY LOVE
Man never truly possesses anything
Neither his strength, nor his weakness, nor his heart
And when he opens his arms
His shadow is that of a cross
And when he tries to embrace happiness, he crushes it
His life is a strange and painful divorce
There is no happy love
His life resembles those soulless soldiers
Who have been groomed for a different fate
Why should they rise in the morning
When nighttime finds them disarmed, uncertain
Say these words and hold back your tears
There is no happy love
My beautiful love, my dear love, my torn heart
I carry you in me like a wounded bird
Those who unknowingly watch us walk by
Repeat after me my words and sigh
They have already died in your bright eyes
There is no happy love
By the time we learn to live
It's already too late
Our hearts cry in unison at night
It takes many a misfortune for the simplest song
Many regrets to pay for a thrill
Many a tear for a guitar's melody
There is no happy love
There is no love without pain
There is no love that doesn't hurt
There is no love that doesn't wither
And no more than your love of one's country
There is no love that lives from tears
There is no happy love
But it is our love for both
@johnserguiev818
Georges Brassens - Il n'y a pas d'Amour Heureux
Rien n'est jamais acquis à l'homme. Ni sa force
Ni sa faiblesse ni son cœur. Et quand il croit
Ouvrir ses bras son ombre est celle d'une croix
Et quand il croit serrer son bonheur il le broie
Sa vie est un étrange et douloureux divorce
Il n'y a pas d'amour heureux
Sa vie elle ressemble à ces soldats sans armes
Qu'on avait habillés pour un autre destin
A quoi peut leur servir de ce lever matin
Eux qu'on retrouve au soir désarmés incertains
Dites ces mots ma vie et retenez vos larmes
Il n'y a pas d'amour heureux
Mon bel amour mon cher amour ma déchirure
Je te porte dans moi comme un oiseau blessé
Et ceux-là sans savoir nous regardent passer
Répétant après moi les mots que j'ai tressés
Et qui pour tes grands yeux tout aussitôt moururent
Il n'y a pas d'amour heureux
Le temps d'apprendre à vivre il est déjà trop tard
Que pleurent dans la nuit nos cœurs à l'unisson
Ce qu'il faut de malheur pour la moindre chanson
Ce qu'il faut de regrets pour payer un frisson
Ce qu'il faut de sanglots pour un air de guitare
Il n'y a pas d'amour heureux
Il n'y a pas d'amour qui ne soit à douleur
Il n'y a pas d'amour dont on ne soit meurtri
Il n'y a pas d'amour dont on ne soit flétri
Et pas plus que de toi l'amour de la patrie
Il n'y a pas d'amour qui ne vive de pleurs
Il n'y a pas d'amour heureux
Mais c'est notre amour à tous deux
@philipegondale5194
Quelle poésie, quelle poésie, la poésie n'est pas une question de vrai ou de faux. L'état poétique et un autre niveau de conscience
@benjaminfalagan26
C est pas seulement un état de conscience, c est aussi et surtout du ressort de l émotion. Donc pas du réfléchi mais du ressenti. C est tout l objet de l art : susciter des émotions.
@rolandsarrazin4730
Excellent texte d'Aragon chanté par Brassens. L'un des plus grands de la chanson française pour les les paroles les textes un vrai poète des temps modernes. En voie de disparition pas d'égal aujourd'hui. Il maniait la langue française comme personne avec du vieux français parfois , souvent mélangé à ces textes. Un pur bonheur de le réécouter. J'ai commencé à le suivre à l'âge de 16 ans , il est inoubliable et incontournable. Il y en a des comme ça ! ...
@rolandsarrazin4730
Et quelle intelligence et pertinence dans les paroles de ses chansons avec presque toujours un message sous jacent . Beaucoup d'humour, de vérité, ô ô ô ... nostalgie quand tu nous tiens ! Brassens gravé à jamais...
@mariebambelle7361
En l'occurrence, les paroles sont d'Aragon 😉
@rolandsarrazin4730
@@mariebambelle7361 Exact oui je sais pour celle ci . Magnifique, je ne sais pas ce que vous en pensez, moi j'aime beaucoup.
@mohammedfrarni5850
Quand la poésie épouse la musique:la perfection assurée.
@paulettemarchand7432
Il.n.y.a.pas.d.amours.heureux.et.je.vous.salue.marie.ont.la.meme.musique.toutes.les.deux
@myriamlienard5300
Toujours dans mon cœur mon bien cher Georges.
@paulettemarchand7432
Georges.etait.aussi.un.guitariste.hors.paire.on.ne.vois.plus.cela.aujourd.hui.accompegner.soi.meme.une.poesie.de.louis.aragon.c.est.magnifique.