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 temps passe
Georges Brassens Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Vingt ans, c'est un' somm' de bonheur
Mes vingt ans sont morts à la guerre
De l'autr' côté du champ d'honneur
Si j'connus un temps de chien, certes
C'est bien le temps de mes vingt ans
Cependant, je pleure sa perte
Il est mort, c'était le bon temps
Il est toujours joli, le temps passé
Un' fois qu'ils ont cassé leur pipe
On pardonne à tous ceux qui nous ont offensés
Les morts sont tous des braves types
Dans ta petit' mémoire de lièvre
Bécassine, il t'est souvenu
De notre amour du coin des lèvres
Amour nul et non avenu
Amour d'un sou qui n'allait, certes
Guèr' plus loin que le bout d'son lit
Cependant, nous pleurons sa perte
Il est mort, il est embelli
Il est toujours joli, le temps passé
Un' fois qu'ils ont cassé leur pipe
On pardonne à tous ceux qui nous ont offensés
Les morts sont tous des braves types
J'ai mis ma tenue la plus sombre
Et mon masque d'enterrement
Pour conduire au royaum' des ombres
Un paquet de vieux ossements
La terr' n'a jamais produit, certes
De canaille plus consommée
Cependant, nous pleurons sa perte
Elle est morte, elle est embaumée
Il est toujours joli, le temps passé
Un' fois qu'ils ont cassé leur pipe
On pardonne à tous ceux qui nous ont offensés
Les morts sont tous des braves types
The lyrics of Georges Brassens's song Le temps passé (The past time) are reflective in nature, as the artist looks back at the events of his life that have shaped him into the person he is today. The opening lines of the song paint the picture of an accountant's ledger, with twenty years being a sum of happiness. However, the artist's own twenty years were cut short due to war, and he mourns the loss of that happy time. He acknowledges that while that period of his life was difficult, he now longs for it once again, and he feels a deep sense of sadness at the passing of those times.
The second verse of the song changes tone slightly, becoming more nostalgic than melancholy. The artist speaks to someone referred to as "Bécassine," recalling their past love that never amounted to anything. He describes it as a love that couldn't go further than the edge of the bed, but that they both still mourn its passing. The overall message seems to be that even though the past may not have always been perfect, it's much easier to look back on it fondly when the people and events are no longer present in our current lives. The repetition of the line "Il est toujours joli, le temps passé" (The past is always beautiful) emphasizes this idea.
Line by Line Meaning
Dans les comptes d'apothicaire
In the meticulous calculations of life
Vingt ans, c'est un' somm' de bonheur
Twenty years old is a sum of happiness
Mes vingt ans sont morts à la guerre
My twenty years old died in war
De l'autr' côté du champ d'honneur
On the other side of the field of honor
Si j'connus un temps de chien, certes
If I had a tough time, surely
C'est bien le temps de mes vingt ans
It was the time of my twenty years old
Cependant, je pleure sa perte
However, I mourn its loss
Il est mort, c'était le bon temps
It is dead, it was the good times
Il est toujours joli, le temps passé
The past is always beautiful
Un' fois qu'ils ont cassé leur pipe
Once they have passed away
On pardonne à tous ceux qui nous ont offensés
We forgive all those who have offended us
Les morts sont tous des braves types
The dead are all good guys
Dans ta petit' mémoire de lièvre
In your little hare-like memory
Bécassine, il t'est souvenu
Bécassine, did you remember
De notre amour du coin des lèvres
Our love from the corner of our mouths
Amour nul et non avenu
Null and void love
Amour d'un sou qui n'allait, certes
Love that was not worth much, surely
Guèr' plus loin que le bout d'son lit
Did not go much further than the edge of the bed
Cependant, nous pleurons sa perte
However, we mourn its loss
Il est mort, il est embelli
It is dead, it has been embellished
J'ai mis ma tenue la plus sombre
I put on my darkest outfit
Et mon masque d'enterrement
And my mourning mask
Pour conduire au royaum' des ombres
To lead to the kingdom of shadows
Un paquet de vieux ossements
A package of old bones
La terr' n'a jamais produit, certes
The earth has certainly never produced
De canaille plus consommée
A more consummate scoundrel
Cependant, nous pleurons sa perte
However, we mourn its loss
Elle est morte, elle est embaumée
She is dead, she is embalmed
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Written by: Georges Charles Brassens
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
Gargamixture
J’ai jamais vu un guitariste / poètes / chanteur / compteur / siffloteur aussi incroyable
antonio fiocchi
Bravo Tonton Georges! Il s'agit d'une très belle chanson!
Isaelcho
Merveilleux chanson
Andrea Bianchi
un artista impareggiabile
Serge Dannywilde
J'admire le croisement de vers du refrain.
gluups
Les morts sont tous des braves types...
José Bonanno
oui très belle chanson, merci jojo
Sébastien Joulia
Il existe également la version de Juliette Gréco.
Lynn Borghero
Je vois à peu près de qui il s'agit !
José Bonanno
vidéo associée : jose bonanno chante une reprise de georges brassens :https://youtu.be/8BZaypwlRuc