Le Grand Chêne
Georges Brassens Lyrics
Il vivait en dehors des chemins forestiers
Ce n'était nullement un arbre de métier
Il n'avait jamais vu l'ombre d'un bûcheron
Ce grand chêne fier sur son tronc
Il eût connu des jours filés d'or et de soie
Sans ses proches voisins, les pires gens qui soient
Des roseaux mal pensant, pas même des bambous
S'amusant à le mettre à bout
Tout juste cann' à pêch', à peine mirlitons
Lui tournant tout autour chantaient, in extenso
L'histoire du chêne et du roseau
Et, bien qu'il fût en bois, les chênes, c'est courant
La fable ne le laissait pas indifférent
Il advint que lassé d'être en but aux lazzi
Il se résolu à l'exi(l)
A grand-peine il sortit ses grands pieds de son trou
Et partit sans se retourner ni peu ni prou
Mais, moi qui l'ai connu, je sais qu'il en souffrit
De quitter l'ingrate patrie
A l'orée des forêts, le chêne ténébreux
A lié connaissance avec deux amoureux
Grand chêne laisse-nous sur toi graver nos noms
Le grand chêne n'as pas dit non
Quand ils eur'nt épuisé leur grand sac de baisers
Quand, de tant s'embrasser, leurs becs furent usés
Ils ouïrent alors, en retenant des pleurs
Le chêne contant ses malheurs
Grand chên', viens chez nous, tu trouveras la paix
Nos roseaux savent vivre et n'ont aucun toupet
Tu feras dans nos murs un aimable séjour
Arrosé quatre fois par jour
Cela dit, tous les trois se mettent en chemin
Chaque amoureux tenant une racine en main
Comme il semblait content ! Comme il semblait heureux
Le chêne entre ses amoureux
Au pied de leur chaumière, ils le firent planter
Ce fut alors qu'il commença de déchanter
Car, en fait d'arrosage, il n'eut rien que la pluie
Des chiens levant la patt' sur lui
On a pris tous ses glands pour nourrir les cochons
Avec sa belle écorce on a fait des bouchons
Chaque fois qu'un arrêt de mort était rendu
C'est lui qui héritait du pendu
Puis ces mauvaises gens, vandales accomplis
Le coupèrent en quatre et s'en firent un lit
Et l'horrible mégère ayant des tas d'amants
Il vieillit prématurément
Un triste jour, enfin, ce couple sans aveu
Le passa par la hache et le mit dans le feu
Comme du bois de caisse, amère destinée
Il périt dans la cheminée
Le curé de chez nous, petit saint besogneux
Doute que sa fumée s'élève jusqu'à Dieu
Qu'est-c'qu'il en sait, le bougre, et qui donc lui a dit
Qu'y a pas de chêne en paradis
Qu'y a pas de chêne en paradis
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Written by: GEORGES CHARLES BRASSENS
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
To comment on specific lyrics, highlight them
Georges Brassens was a French singer and songwriter known for accompanying himself with his acoustic guitar. He wrote some extremely controversial, yet poetic songs. In doing so, he managed to change attitudes across France.
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. Read Full BioGeorges Brassens was a French singer and songwriter known for accompanying himself with his acoustic guitar. He wrote some extremely controversial, yet poetic songs. In doing so, he managed to change attitudes across France.
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
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. Read Full BioGeorges Brassens was a French singer and songwriter known for accompanying himself with his acoustic guitar. He wrote some extremely controversial, yet poetic songs. In doing so, he managed to change attitudes across France.
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
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Petit Tonerre
Très belle voix, j'ai appris cette chanson au primaire ❤️
Anne -Lise Bouvier
Le Grand Georges.........♥️
Alpha Blender
Paix à ton âme Brassens
dega723
Avant je la confondais avec "Auprès de mon arbre" mais avec l'âge je la trouve bien mieux ; )
ely ejoty
@Baube Valerie Et maintenant, une chanson qui s'intitule "Le grand chêne" tu crois que ça parle de quoi ?
Baube Valerie
Avant je croyais que ça parlait d’un chêne ...
nadim berbach
pas mal chantee je la chante aussi
Hiwa
Il vivait en dehors des chemins forestiers
Ce n'était nullement un arbre de métier
Il n'avait jamais vu l'ombre d'un bûcheron
Ce grand chêne fier sur son tronc
Il eût connu des jours filés d'or et de soie
Sans ses proches voisins, les pires gens qui soient
Des roseaux mal pensant, pas même des bambous
S'amusant à le mettre à bout
Du matin jusqu'au soir ces petit rejetons
Tout juste cann' à pêch', à peine mirlitons
Lui tournant tout autour chantaient, in extenso
L'histoire du chêne et du roseau
Et, bien qu'il fût en bois, les chênes, c'est courant
La fable ne le laissait pas indifférent
Il advint que lassé d'être en but aux lazzi
Il se résolu à l'exi(l)
A grand-peine il sortit ses grands pieds de son trou
Et partit sans se retourner ni peu ni prou
Mais, moi qui l'ai connu, je sais qu'il en souffrit
De quitter l'ingrate patrie
A l'orée des forêts, le chêne ténébreux
A lié connaissance avec deux amoureux
Grand chêne laisse-nous sur toi graver nos noms
Le grand chêne n'as pas dit non
Quand ils eur'nt épuisé leur grand sac de baisers
Quand, de tant s'embrasser, leurs becs furent usés
Ils ouïrent alors, en retenant des pleurs
Le chêne contant ses malheurs
Grand chên', viens chez nous, tu trouveras la paix
Nos roseaux savent vivre et n'ont aucun toupet
Tu feras dans nos murs un aimable séjour
Arrosé quatre fois par jour
Cela dit, tous les trois se mettent en chemin
Chaque amoureux tenant une racine en main
Comme il semblait content ! Comme il semblait heureux
Le chêne entre ses amoureux
Au pied de leur chaumière, ils le firent planter
Ce fut alors qu'il commença de déchanter
Car, en fait d'arrosage, il n'eut rien que la pluie
Des chiens levant la patt' sur lui
On a pris tous ses glands pour nourrir les cochons
Avec sa belle écorce on a fait des bouchons
Chaque fois qu'un arrêt de mort était rendu
C'est lui qui héritait du pendu
Puis ces mauvaises gens, vandales accomplis
Le coupèrent en quatre et s'en firent un lit
Et l'horrible mégère ayant des tas d'amants
Il vieillit prématurément
Un triste jour, enfin, ce couple sans aveu
Le passa par la hache et le mit dans le feu
Comme du bois de caisse, amère destinée
Il périt dans la cheminée
Le curé de chez nous, petit saint besogneux
Doute que sa fumée s'élève jusqu'à Dieu
Qu'est-c'qu'il en sait, le bougre, et qui donc lui a dit
Qu'y a pas de chêne en paradis
Qu'y a pas de chêne en paradis
Anne -Lise Bouvier
Merci ,