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.
Old Folks
Jacques Brel Lyrics
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And they talk so slowly when they do
They are rich, they are poor, their illusions are gone
They share one haeart for two
Their homes all smell of thyme, of old photographs
And an old-fashioned song
Though you may live in town you live so far away
When you've lived too long
Talking of times gone by
And have they cried too much, a tear or two
Still always seems to cloud the eye
They tremble as they watch the old silver clock
When day is through
It tick-tocks oh so slow, it says, "Yes," it says, "No"
It says, "I'll wait for you."
The old folks dream no more
The books have gone to sleep, the piano's out of tune
The little cat is dead and no more do they sing
On a Sunday afternoon
The old folks move no more, their world's become too small
Their bodies feel like lead
They might look out the window or else sit in a chair
Or else they stay in bed
And if they still go out, arm in arm, arm in arm
In the morning's chill
It's to have a good cry, to say their last good-bye
To one who's older still
And then they go home to the old silver clock
When day is through
It tick-tocks oh so slow, it says, "Yes," it says, "No"
It says, "I'll wait for you."
The old folks never die
They just put down their heads and go to sleep one day
They hold each other's hand like children in the dark
But one will get lost anyway
And the other will remain just sitting in that room
Which makes no sound
It doesn't matter now, the song has died away
And echoes all around
You'll see them when they walk through the sun-filled park
Where children run and play
It hurts too much to smile, it hurts too much but life goes on
For still another day
As they try to escape the old silver clock
When day is through
It tick-tocks oh so slow, it says, "Yes," it says, "No"
It says, "I'll wait for you."
The old, old silver clock that's hanging on the wall
That waits for us
All
The lyrics of Jacques Brel's song Old Folks speak to the experiences of aging and the way that life changes as one grows older. The old folks are portrayed as people who live in a world that has become small, constrained by the limitations of their aging bodies and the passage of time. They don't talk much, and when they do it's slowly and with a dryness that speaks to the weight of all the memories and experiences they've amassed over the course of their long lives.
The song offers a poignant and often melancholy portrait of old age, with images of homes that smell of thyme and old photographs, dreams that have faded, and the slow ticking of an old silver clock. Despite the sadness that permeates the lyrics of the song, there is also a sense of tenderness and compassion, particularly in the way that the old folks are depicted holding each other's hands like children in the dark.
Ultimately, the song speaks to the universal experience of aging and the way that we are all in some sense held prisoners by time, moving slowly toward our eventual ends. And yet, even in the face of this inevitability, Brel manages to find moments of beauty and grace, reminding us that life goes on, and that there is still strength and resilience to be found even in our final days.
Line by Line Meaning
The old folks don't talk much
Elderly people are generally quiet and reserved.
And they talk so slowly when they do
When they do speak, it is done in a slow and deliberate manner.
They are rich, they are poor, their illusions are gone
Regardless of wealth or status, old age strips them of their illusions and false hopes.
They share one heart for two
As a result, they often bond deeply and share a strong emotional connection.
Their homes all smell of thyme, of old photographs
Elderly people's homes are often filled with nostalgic smells and mementos of the past.
And an old-fashioned song
Typically, they enjoy listening to music from their youth and the olden days.
Though you may live in town you live so far away
Even if you live nearby, you can still feel removed from the world of the elderly.
When you've lived too long
The feeling of being isolated and disconnected from the rest of the world can grow stronger with age.
And have they laughed too much, do their dry voices crack
Their once youthful laughter has faded, replaced by a hoarse and scratchy voice.
Talking of times gone by
Naturally, conversation revolves around memories of the past.
And have they cried too much, a tear or two
Tears come easily with age, and even small memories can trigger them.
Still always seems to cloud the eye
Their eyes remain clouded with tears, even when they stop crying.
They tremble as they watch the old silver clock
The elderly often feel a sense of urgency and trepidation about the passing of time.
When day is through
Especially at the end of the day, when they contemplate their own mortality.
It tick-tocks oh so slow, it says, "Yes," it says, "No"
The sound of a ticking clock can be a reminder of how slowly time passes or how little remains.
It says, "I'll wait for you."
The clock reminds them that their time is running out, and that it is always waiting for them.
The old folks dream no more
The elderly have mostly given up on dreams and aspirations.
The books have gone to sleep, the piano's out of tune
Their mind and body are no longer as sharp as they used to be, and they can no longer enjoy the things they once did.
The little cat is dead and no more do they sing
The things that once brought them joy have been taken away as they have grown old.
On a Sunday afternoon
Typically, this was a time for relaxation and enjoyment in the past.
The old folks move no more, their world's become too small
Their physical abilities become limited and their world shrinks as they grow older.
Their bodies feel like lead
The elderly often feel heavy and fatigued, making it hard for them to move around with ease.
They might look out the window or else sit in a chair
Many elderly people spend their days sitting and not moving around much.
Or else they stay in bed
Some elderly people are no longer able to leave their beds due to physical limitations.
And if they still go out, arm in arm, arm in arm
Older people sometimes enjoy companionship and the simple act of walking with someone else.
In the morning's chill
During the coolness of the morning, which can be a difficult time for the elderly.
It's to have a good cry, to say their last good-bye
For some, going out is done to say goodbye to someone they might not see again
To one who's older still
Someone who is even closer to death than they are.
And then they go home to the old silver clock
They return to the comfort of their home and the reminder of the inevitable passage of time.
They just put down their heads and go to sleep one day
Death comes to the elderly often peacefully and naturally, like a nap.
They hold each other's hand like children in the dark
As they reach the end of their lives, even the strongest among them can feel vulnerable and uncertain.
But one will get lost anyway
Death will come to one of them sooner than the other, leaving one without a partner.
And the other will remain just sitting in that room
The one left behind will face a lonely existence, overcome by grief and memories.
Which makes no sound
Their once lively home is now a silent reminder of a life now gone.
It doesn't matter now, the song has died away
Life goes on even after death, and the things that once mattered now feel unimportant.
And echoes all around
Memories of the past linger and continue to affect those left behind.
You'll see them when they walk through the sun-filled park
Even as they age, they still venture out into the world from time to time.
Where children run and play
Watching children reminds the elderly of a simpler, more carefree time in their lives.
It hurts too much to smile, it hurts too much but life goes on
Even the simplest things can feel painful when one is elderly, yet life continues with or without them.
For still another day
Elderly people often take each day as it comes, with no expectations for a future beyond that.
As they try to escape the old silver clock
The clock serves as a constant reminder of their own mortality, which can be overwhelming.
When day is through
Especially in the evening, when the day is coming to a close and they are left alone with their thoughts.
It tick-tocks oh so slow, it says, "Yes," it says, "No"
It is a comfort to know that the clock will continue to tick away regardless of what happens.
It says, "I'll wait for you."
In the end, the clock will always be waiting for them, just as it waits for everyone.
The old, old silver clock that's hanging on the wall
The clock is an ever-present symbol of the passage of time and the inevitability of death.
That waits for us
Regardless of who we are or what we do, time is always ticking away, waiting for us to catch up.
All
Attributes are available for each line of the song.
Writer(s): Gerard Jouannest, Mort Shuman, Jean Corti, Jacques Roman Brel Copyright: Editions Jacques Brel, Mort Shuman Songs
Contributed by Carson F. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
Mary M. Brandes
on La Valse à Mille Temps
I love Jacques Brel songs.