Brel was born on 8th April 1929 in Schaarbeek, a district of Brussels, and lived half of his life in Paris. He died of lung cancer on 9th October 1978 in Bobigny in the suburbs of Paris, and is buried in the Marquesas Islands.
Although the Brels spoke French, they were of Flemish descent, with some of the family originating from Zandvoorde, near Ieper. Brel's father was co-owner of a cardboard factory and Brel started his professional life at that firm, apparently destined to follow in his father's footsteps. However he had no interest in it, showing instead an interest in the arts, having joined the Catholic-humanist youth organisation Franche Cordée, where he did some singing and acting. At Franche Cordée he met Thérèse Michielsen ('Miche'), and they married in 1950.
In the early 1950s Brel achieved some minor success in Belgium, singing his own songs. A 78rpm record ("La foire"/"Il y a") was released as a result. From 1954 Brel seriously pursued a singing career. He quit his job and moved to Paris, writing music and singing in the city's cabarets and music-halls.. In January 1955 he supported in the Ancienne Belgique in Brussels the performances of the Belgian pop and variety pioneer Bobbejaan Schoepen. After some success his wife and daughters joined him from Belgium. By 1956 he was touring Europe and he recorded the song "Quand on n'a que l'amour", which brought him his first major recognition. He appeared in a show with Maurice Chevalier and Michel Legrand.
By the end of the 1950s Miche and Brel's three daughters moved to Brussels. He and his family led separate lives from then on. Under the influence of his friend Georges Pasquier ('Jojo') and pianists Gérard Jouannest and François Rauber, Brel's style changed. He was no longer a Catholic-humanist troubadour, but sang grimmer songs about love, death, and the struggle that is life. The music became more complex and his themes more diverse, exploring love ("Je t'aime", "Litanies pour un retour"), society ("Les singes", "Les bourgeois", "Jaurès") and spiritual concerns ("Le bon Dieu", "Dites, si c'était vrai", "Fernand"). His work is not limited to one style. He was as proficient in comic compositions ("Le lion", "Comment tuer l'amant de sa femme...") as in more emotional ones ("Voir un ami pleurer", "Fils de...", "Jojo"). He composed and recorded his songs almost exclusively in French, and is widely recognised in French-speaking countries as one of the best French-language composers of all time.
Brel himself occasionally included parts of his songs in Flemish (Dutch), one of the three official languages of Belgium, as in Marieke. He also recorded eight other Flemish versions of songs, such as Mijn vlakke land (Le plat Pays), Laat Me Niet Alleen (Ne me quitte pas), Rosa, De Burgerij (Les Bourgeois), and De Nuttelozen van de Nacht (Les paumés du petit matin). Since his own command of the language was poor, these were translated by Ernst van Altena, renowned translator of French song. Although France was Brel's "spiritual home" and he expressed contradictory statements about his native Belgium, some of his best compositions pay tribute to Belgium.
A very successful theatrical review of his songs, "Jacques Brel is Alive and Living in Paris," was launched in 1968. It featured English translations of his songs, and it was late made into a film.
To English-speaking listeners, Brel's best-known song is probably "Seasons in the Sun," a hit for Terry Jacks in 1973. Its English lyrics are a translation by Rod McKuen of Brel's "Le Moribond."
For twenty years he was a major star gaining recognition beyond French audiences. In 1973 he retreated to French Polynesia, remaining there until 1977 when he returned to Paris and recorded his well-received final album.
A heavy smoker, it was discovered in 1973 that Brel had lung cancer. He died in 1978 and was buried in Calvary Cemetery in Atuona, Hiva Oa, Marquesas Islands, French Polynesia only a few yards away from painter Paul Gauguin.
Les Toros
Jacques Brel Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Les toros s'ennuient le dimanche
Quand il s'agit de courir pour nous
Un peu de sable, du soleil et des planches
Un peu de sang pour faire un peu de boue
Mais c'est l'heure où les épiciers
Se prennent pour Don Juan
Se prennent pour Montherlant, ah!
Qui nous dira à quoi ça pense
Un toro qui tourne et danse
Et s'aperçoit soudain qu'il est tout nu?Ah!
Qui nous dira à quoi ça rêve
Un toro dont l'œil se lève
Et qui découvre les cornes des cocus?
Olé!
Les toros s'ennuient le dimanche
Quand il s'agit de souffrir pour nous
Mais voici les picadors et la foule se venge
Voici les toreros, la foule est à genoux
Et c'est l'heure où les épiciers
Se prennent pour Garcia Lorca
C'est l'heure où les Anglaises
Se prennent pour la Carmencita
Les toros s'ennuient le dimanche
Quand il s'agit de mourir pour nous
Mais l'épée va plonger et la foule se penche
L'épée a plongé et la foule est debout
C'est l'instant de triomphe où les épiciers
Se prennent pour Néron
C'est l'instant de triomphe où les Anglaises
Se prennent pour Wellington, ah!
Est-ce qu'en tombant à terre
Les toros rêvent d'un enfer
Où brûleraient hommes et toreros défunts? Ah!
Ou bien à l'heure du trépas
Ne nous pardonneraient-ils pas
En pensant à Carthage, Waterloo et Verdun?
Verdun!
In Jacques Brel's song Les Toros, the singer muses about the inherent cruelty and senselessness of bullfighting, and the way in which humans take pleasure in the suffering and death of these animals. The lyrics describe how the bulls are bored on Sundays when they are forced to run for the entertainment of humans, and how the real excitement comes when the picadors and matadors arrive to taunt and kill them. The singer questions what must be going through the bulls' minds as they are put through this spectacle, and wonders whether they dream of an afterlife where they can exact revenge on the humans who tortured them.
The lyrics are powerful and poignant, and they underscore the tragic nature of bullfighting. They condemn the violence and cruelty at the heart of the sport, and question the morality of those who take part in or watch it. Brel's song is a call to action, urging people to reconsider their attitudes towards animals and to work towards ending the practice of bullfighting.
Line by Line Meaning
Les toros s'ennuient le dimanche
On Sundays, bulls get bored
Quand il s'agit de courir pour nous
When they have to run for us
Un peu de sable, du soleil et des planches
A bit of sand, sun, and planks
Un peu de sang pour faire un peu de boue
A bit of blood to make some mud
Mais c'est l'heure où les épiciers se prennent pour Don Juan
But that's the time when grocers pretend to be Don Juan
C'est l'heure où les Anglaises se prennent pour Montherlant
That's the time when Englishwomen pretend to be Montherlant
Ah!
Ah!
Qui nous dira à quoi ça pense
Who will tell us what they're thinking?
Un toro qui tourne et danse
A bull that turns and dances
Et s'aperçoit soudain qu'il est tout nu?
And suddenly realizes it's all naked?
Ah!
Ah!
Qui nous dira à quoi ça rêve
Who will tell us what they dream?
Un toro dont l'œil se lève
A bull whose eye looks up
Et qui découvre les cornes des cocus?
And discovers the horns of cuckolds?
Les toros s'ennuient le dimanche
On Sundays, bulls get bored
Quand il s'agit de souffrir pour nous
When it's time for them to suffer for us
Mais voici les picadors et la foule se venge
But here come the picadors and the crowd takes revenge
Voici les toreros, la foule est à genoux
Here come the bullfighters, the crowd is on its knees
Et c'est l'heure où les épiciers se prennent pour Garcia Lorca
And that's the time when grocers pretend to be Garcia Lorca
C'est l'heure où les Anglaises se prennent pour la Carmencita
That's the time when Englishwomen pretend to be the Carmencita
Les toros s'ennuient le dimanche
On Sundays, bulls get bored
Quand il s'agit de mourir pour nous
When it's time for them to die for us
Mais l'épée va plonger et la foule se penche
But the sword is going to plunge, and the crowd leans over
Mais l'épée a plongé et la foule est debout
But the sword has plunged and the crowd is standing
C'est l'instant de triomphe où les épiciers se prennent pour Néron
It's the moment of triumph when grocers pretend to be Nero
C'est l'instant de triomphe où les Anglaises se prennent pour Wellington
It's the moment of triumph when Englishwomen pretend to be Wellington
Ah!
Ah!
Est-ce qu'en tombant à terre
When falling to the ground
Les toros rêvent d'un enfer
Do bulls dream of a hell
Où brûleraient hommes et toreros défunts?
Where dead men and bullfighters would burn?
Ah!
Ah!
Ou bien à l'heure du trépas
Or perhaps at the moment of their demise
Ne nous pardonneraient-ils pas
Wouldn't they forgive us
En pensant à Carthage, Waterloo et Verdun?
Thinking of Carthage, Waterloo, and Verdun?
Verdun!
Verdun!
Lyrics © O/B/O APRA AMCOS
Written by: Jacques Brel
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
HusHLer PuTscH
Il est juste énorme ce morceau !!
Lyric Rogers
I haven't heard this in forever!!!! And the remastering sounds awesome! Kinda like Glee but better, and this is the original recording. Also, Joe Masiell sang this song in English in one of my favorite movies.
Love from the USA,
♫♫~~Lyric~~♫♫
Mohammed BENJELLOUN
Merci. J’aime beaucoup cette chanson.
L. Sébire
peu connue mais tellement vraie
Lise Loupal
Oh que non ! connue depuis longtemps
stella celeste
tellement vrai et triste ..
Lise Loupal
s'il n'y avait pas de spectateurs la corrida disparaîtrait
AC
Merci !
ludwig van doudou
OOLéé !
gregoire
il parle de quoi exactement ?