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
Le Moyenâgeux
Georges Brassens Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Qu'aient pu mériter mes parents
C'est d'avoir pas joué plus tôt
Le jeu de la bête à deux dos
Je suis né, même pas bâtard
Avec cinq siècles de retard
Pardonnez-moi, Prince, si je
Suis foutrement moyenâgeux
Ah ! que n'ai-je vécu, bon sang
Entre quatorze et quinze cent
J'aurais retrouvé mes copains
Au Trou de la pomme de pin
Tous les beaux parleurs de jargon
Tous les promis de Montfaucon
Les plus illustres seigneuries
Du royaum' de truanderie
Après une franche repue
J'eusse aimé, toute honte bue
Aller courir le cotillon
Sur les pas de François Villon
Troussant la gueuse et la forçant
Au cimetièr' des Innocents
Mes amours de ce siècle-ci
N'en aient aucune jalousie
J'eusse aimé le corps féminin
Des nonnettes et des nonnains
Qui, dans ces jolis temps bénis
Ne disaient pas toujours " nenni "
Qui faisaient le mur du couvent
Qui, Dieu leur pardonne ! souvent
Comptaient les baisers, s'il vous plaît
Avec des grains de chapelet
Ces p'tit's soeurs, trouvant qu'à leur goût
Quatre Evangil's c'est pas beaucoup
Sacrifiaient à un de plus
L'évangile selon Vénus
Témoin : l'abbesse de Pourras
Qui fut, qui reste et restera
La plus glorieuse putain
De moines du quartier Latin
A la fin, les anges du guet
M'auraient conduit sur le gibet
Je serais mort, jambes en l'air
Sur la veuve patibulaire
En arrosant la mandragore
L'herbe aux pendus qui revigore
En bénissant avec les pieds
Les ribaudes apitoyées
Hélas ! tout ça, c'est des chansons
Il faut se faire une raison
Les choux-fleurs poussent à présent
Sur le charnier des Innocents
Le Trou de la pomme de pin
N'est plus qu'un bar américain
Y a quelque chose de pourri
Au royaum' de truanderie
Je mourrai pas à Montfaucon
Mais dans un lit, comme un vrai con
Je mourrai, pas même pendard
Avec cinq siècles de retard
Ma dernière parole soit
Quelques vers de Maître François
Et que j'emporte entre les dents
Un flocon des neiges d'antan
Ma dernière parole soit
Quelques vers de Maître François
Pardonnez-moi, Prince, si je
Suis foutrement moyenâgeux
In Georges Brassens's song Le Moyenâgeux, the singer laments that he was born too late to experience the joys of the Middle Ages, a time when "beaux parleurs de jargon" (eloquent speakers), "seigneuries" (nobles), and "gueuses" (prostitutes) all roamed the streets. He regrets not being able to reunite with his "copains" (friends) at the "Trou de la pomme de pin" (an infamous tavern) and courting the ladies of the era who were not always opposed to premarital sex. He even jokingly suggests he could have become a member of the clergy to seduce "nonnettes" and "nonnains" (little nuns) who didn't always say no.
Ultimately, the singer realizes that he is a modern man living in a world where "choux-fleurs poussent à présent sur le charnier des Innocents" (cauliflowers grow on the graves of innocents) and longingly wishes to die with "un flocon des neiges d'antan" (a flake of snow from yesteryear) in his mouth reciting the verses of Master François (Villon) from long ago.
The song highlights Brassens's ability to merge humor and poignancy in his lyrics. The singer's longing for a bygone era that he never experienced prompts feelings of longing and sadness in the listener. Brassens's vocal performance delivers the character's sense of nostalgia and regret, making this song a standout track in his discography.
Line by Line Meaning
Le seul reproche, au demeurant
The only criticism, by the way
Qu'aient pu mériter mes parents
That my parents could have deserved
C'est d'avoir pas joué plus tôt
Is not having played earlier
Le jeu de la bête à deux dos
The game of the beast with two backs
Je suis né, même pas bâtard
I was born, not even a bastard
Avec cinq siècles de retard
With five centuries of delay
Pardonnez-moi, Prince, si je
Forgive me, Prince, if I
Suis foutrement moyenâgeux
Am damn medieval
Ah ! que n'ai-je vécu, bon sang
Ah! If only I had lived, damn it
Entre quatorze et quinze cent
Between fourteen and fifteen hundred
J'aurais retrouvé mes copains
I would have found my buddies
Au Trou de la pomme de pin
At the Pinecone Hole
Tous les beaux parleurs de jargon
All the eloquent speakers of jargon
Tous les promis de Montfaucon
All the pledged ones of Montfaucon
Les plus illustres seigneuries
The most illustrious lordships
Du royaum' de truanderie
Of the kingdom of thievery
Après une franche repue
After a frank meal
J'eusse aimé, toute honte bue
I would have liked, all shame drunk
Aller courir le cotillon
Go run the cotillion
Sur les pas de François Villon
In the footsteps of François Villon
Troussant la gueuse et la forçant
Lifting the woman's skirts and forcing her
Au cimetièr' des Innocents
In the cemetery of the Innocents
Mes amours de ce siècle-ci
My loves of this century
N'en aient aucune jalousie
Should have no jealousy
J'eusse aimé le corps féminin
I would have liked the female body
Des nonnettes et des nonnains
Of nuns and friars
Qui, dans ces jolis temps bénis
Who, in those blessed times
Ne disaient pas toujours " nenni "
Did not always say "no"
Qui faisaient le mur du couvent
Who climbed over the convent walls
Qui, Dieu leur pardonne ! souvent
Who, God forgive them! often
Comptaient les baisers, s'il vous plaît
Counted the kisses, if you please
Avec des grains de chapelet
With beads from a rosary
Ces p'tit's soeurs, trouvant qu'à leur goût
These little sisters, finding to their taste
Quatre Evangil's c'est pas beaucoup
That four Gospels are not enough
Sacrifiaient à un de plus
Made a sacrifice to one more
L'évangile selon Vénus
The Gospel according to Venus
Témoin : l'abbesse de Pourras
Witness: the abbess of Pourras
Qui fut, qui reste et restera
Who was, who remains and will remain
La plus glorieuse putain
The most glorious harlot
De moines du quartier Latin
Of monks from the Latin Quarter
A la fin, les anges du guet
In the end, the watchman angels
M'auraient conduit sur le gibet
Would have led me to the gallows
Je serais mort, jambes en l'air
I would have died, legs in the air
Sur la veuve patibulaire
On the widow's scaffold
En arrosant la mandragore
Watering the mandrake
L'herbe aux pendus qui revigore
The herb for the hanged that invigorates
En bénissant avec les pieds
Blessing with my feet
Les ribaudes apitoyées
The pitiful harlots
Hélas ! tout ça, c'est des chansons
Alas! It's all just songs
Il faut se faire une raison
One must come to terms
Les choux-fleurs poussent à présent
Cauliflowers grow now
Sur le charnier des Innocents
On the charnel house of the Innocents
Le Trou de la pomme de pin
The Pinecone Hole
N'est plus qu'un bar américain
Is now just an American bar
Y a quelque chose de pourri
There's something rotten
Au royaum' de truanderie
In the kingdom of thievery
Je mourrai pas à Montfaucon
I won't die at Montfaucon
Mais dans un lit, comme un vrai con
But in a bed, like a true fool
Je mourrai, pas même pendard
I'll die, not even a hanged man
Avec cinq siècles de retard
With five centuries of delay
Ma dernière parole soit
My last word shall be
Quelques vers de Maître François
Some verses from Master Francois
Et que j'emporte entre les dents
And that I take with me between my teeth
Un flocon des neiges d'antan
A flake of snow from yesteryear
Ma dernière parole soit
My last word shall be
Quelques vers de Maître François
Some verses from Master Francois
Pardonnez-moi, Prince, si je
Forgive me, Prince, if I
Suis foutrement moyenâgeux
Am damn medieval
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Written by: GEORGES CHARLES BRASSENS
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind