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.
Regarde bien petit
Jacques Brel Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Regarde bien
Sur la plaine là-bas
À hauteur des roseaux
Entre ciel et moulin
Y a un homme qui vient
Que je ne connais pas
Regarde bien, petit,
Est-ce un lointain voisin
Un voyageur perdu
Un revenant de guerre
Un montreur de dentelles?
Est-ce un abbé porteur
De ces fausses nouvelles
Qui aident à vieillir?
Est-ce mon frère qui vient
Me dire qu'il est temps
D'un peu moins nous haïr?
Ou n'est-ce que le vent
Qui gonfle un peu le sable
Et forme des mirages
Pour nous passer le temps?
Regarde bien, petit,
Regarde bien
Sur la plaine là-bas
À hauteur des roseaux
Entre ciel et moulin
Y a un homme qui vient
Que je ne connais pas
Regarde bien, petit,
Regarde bien
Ce n'est pas un voisin
Son cheval est trop fier
Pour être de ce coin
Pour revenir de guerre,
Ce n'est pas un abbé
Son cheval est trop pauvre
Pour être paroissien,
Ce n'est pas un marchand
Son cheval est trop clair
Son habit est trop blanc
Et aucun voyageur
N'a plus passé le pont
Depuis la mort du père
Ni ne sait nos prénoms
Regarde bien, petit,
Regarde bien
Sur la plaine là-bas
À hauteur des roseaux
Entre ciel et moulin
Y a un homme qui vient
Que je ne connais pas
Regarde bien, petit,
Regarde bien
Non, ce n'est pas mon frère
Son cheval aurait bu
Non, ce n'est pas mon frère
Il ne l'oserait plus
Il n'est plus rien ici
Qui puisse le servir
Non, ce n'est pas mon frère
Mon frère a pu mourir
Cette ombre de midi
Aurait plus de tourments
S'il s'agissait de lui
Allons, c'est bien le vent
Qui gonfle un peu le sable
Pour nous passer le temps
Regarde bien, petit,
Regarde bien
Sur la plaine là-bas
À hauteur des roseaux
Entre ciel et moulin
Y a un homme qui part
Que nous ne saurons pas
Regarde bien, petit,
Regarde bien
Il faut sécher tes larmes
Y a un homme qui part
Que nous ne saurons pas
Tu peux ranger les armes
The song "Regarde Bien Petit" by Jacques Brel tells the story of a person who sees a stranger riding on horseback in the distance and ponders their identity. The singer tries to guess who this mysterious person could be by ruling out possibilities such as a neighbor, a lost traveler, a war veteran, a lace maker, or even their own brother. As the song progresses, the singer realizes that the stranger is simply a mirage created by the wind blowing sand. They try to comfort a child who is crying over the imagined loss of this stranger by telling them that they can put away their weapons, as there is nobody to fight.
The lyrics paint a vivid picture of the countryside and the imagination of the person observing it. The repetition of "Regarde bien, petit" ("Look closely, little one") emphasizes the importance of observation and perception, and the realization that things are not always what they seem. The singer's musings on the identity of the stranger reveal their own fears and insecurities, and highlight the theme of human connection and the need for companionship.
Line by Line Meaning
Regarde bien, petit,
Pay close attention, young one,
Regarde bien
Look carefully
Sur la plaine là-bas
In the plain over there
À hauteur des roseaux
By the level of the reeds
Entre ciel et moulin
Between the sky and the mill
Y a un homme qui vient
There's a man coming
Que je ne connais pas
That I don't know
Est-ce un lointain voisin
Is it a distant neighbor?
Un voyageur perdu
A lost traveler?
Un revenant de guerre
A war survivor?
Un montreur de dentelles?
A lace maker?
Est-ce un abbé porteur
Is it a priest carrying
De ces fausses nouvelles
False news
Qui aident à vieillir?
That make us grow older?
Est-ce mon frère qui vient
Is it my brother coming
Me dire qu'il est temps
To tell me it's time
D'un peu moins nous haïr?
To hate each other a little less?
Ou n'est-ce que le vent
Or is it just the wind
Qui gonfle un peu le sable
Blowing sand around
Et forme des mirages
Creating mirages
Pour nous passer le temps?
To entertain us?
Ce n'est pas un voisin
It's not a neighbor
Son cheval est trop fier
His horse is too proud
Pour être de ce coin
To be from this place
Pour revenir de guerre,
To have come back from war
Ce n'est pas un abbé
It's not a priest
Son cheval est trop pauvre
His horse is too poor
Pour être paroissien,
To be a member of the parish
Ce n'est pas un marchand
It's not a merchant
Son cheval est trop clair
His horse is too light
Son habit est trop blanc
His clothes are too white
Et aucun voyageur
And no traveler
N'a plus passé le pont
Has crossed the bridge lately
Depuis la mort du père
Since our father's death
Ni ne sait nos prénoms
Nor knows our names
Non, ce n'est pas mon frère
No, it's not my brother
Son cheval aurait bu
His horse would have stopped for water
Il ne l'oserait plus
He wouldn't dare to come anymore
Il n'est plus rien ici
There's nothing left for him here
Qui puisse le servir
To serve him anymore
Mon frère a pu mourir
My brother may have died
Cette ombre de midi
This shadow at noon
Aurait plus de tourments
Would bring more torment
S'il s'agissait de lui
If it were him
Allons, c'est bien le vent
Come on, it's just the wind
Qui gonfle un peu le sable
Blowing sand around
Pour nous passer le temps
To entertain us
Sur la plaine là-bas
In the plain over there
À hauteur des roseaux
By the level of the reeds
Entre ciel et moulin
Between the sky and the mill
Y a un homme qui part
There's a man leaving
Que nous ne saurons pas
That we won't know
Il faut sécher tes larmes
You need to dry your tears
Tu peux ranger les armes
You can put down your weapons
Lyrics © WARNER CHAPPELL MUSIC FRANCE
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
Mary M. Brandes
on La Valse à Mille Temps
I love Jacques Brel songs.