In 1965, Le Forestier formed a duo (Cat et Maxime) with his sister Catherine. Playing at cabaret venues on Paris' Left Bank, the pair met and formed a friendship with Georges Moustaki. They were amongst the first artists to cover a number of songs by Moustaki - including Ma Liberté and Ma Solitude. In 1968, Catherine joined Moustaki as a backing singer. Le Forestier began to focus on songwriting and composed Ballade pour un traître which was recorded and released by the French/Italian singer and actor, Serge Reggiani.
Le Forestier continued as part-time singer/songwriter during his military service (beginning 1969) with a parachute regiment (the inspiration for the song Parachutiste). He recorded two songs: "Cœur de Pierre, Face de Lune", and La Petite Fugue.
His military service ending September 1970, Le Forestier refocused on his musical career. He developed a folksy style which was enormously popular in the 1970s and '80s. His first album Mon Frère, released in 1973, contains several pieces that have entered French folklore, including the title song Mon frère, San Francisco, Comme un arbre and Education sentimentale. He toured extensively, both in France and abroad. In 1976, he toured in 14 cities in the USSR. Recently he has gained particular acclaim for his reworkings of the songs of Georges Brassens.
Liberte
Maxime Le Forestier Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Tu t'en vas sans les cueillir.
Tu te balades, indécise
Chez les sans-chemises
Mais qui veut te retenir,
Dans le ruisseau, s'enlise.
On te dit fière et farouche.
Pour qu'aussitôt, tu te couches
Sous un homme louche
Qui nous tue en ton nom.
Liberté,
Tu n'es pas sérieuse.
Liberté,
T'as déjà vu des vies heureuses
Que l'on vit solitaire?
Oh! Liberté,
T'es pas fidèle.
Surveille un peu tes ailes,
Liberté sur terre.
Pendant que t'ornais ta pique
Avec la tête d'un roi,
On te gravait, magnifique,
Pour la république
Aux murs des commissariats.
Ris pas, c'est pas comique.
Toi, que l'esclave rachète,
Toi, dont on fait des statues,
Toi, que l'on chante à tue-tête
Dans les jours de fêtes,
Réponds-moi: où es-tu?
Liberté,
Tu n'es pas sérieuse.
Liberté,
T'as déjà vu des vies heureuses
Que l'on vit solitaire?
Oh! Liberté,
T'es pas fidèle.
Avec ou sans tes ailes,
Liberté sur terre.
C'est pas la faute à Voltaire.
C'est pas la faute à Rousseau.
Ceux qui t'ont vue, petite mère,
En tenue légère,
Te baigner dans le ruisseau,
Ils sont tombés par terre,
Par terre.
The song "Liberté" by Maxime Le Forestier is a powerful reflection on the meaning and limitations of freedom. The singer addresses the figure of "Liberté" directly, challenging her apparent fickleness and questioning the violence and inequalities that often accompany her pursuit. The first verse paints a picture of a young woman who wanders aimlessly among the "sans-chemises", the working-class revolutionaries of 18th-century France, but who ultimately becomes trapped in the very system she seeks to escape. The singer warns Liberté that her naive idealism is dangerous and that she must be more deliberate and self-aware in her actions if she wishes to truly represent the values of freedom and justice.
In the second verse, the singer reminds Liberté of the many ways in which she has been co-opted and commodified over time, from her use as a symbol of the French Revolution to her representation in public monuments and celebrations. However, the singer suggests that the truest expression of Liberté can only be found in the everyday struggles of ordinary people - those who resist oppression and inequality in their communities, despite the odds against them. The final lines of the song suggest that Liberté is not a static ideal but an ongoing process, one that requires constant vigilance and critical reflection.
Line by Line Meaning
Tu viens au temps des cerises.
You arrive during the cherry season, a time of prosperity and abundance.
Tu t'en vas sans les cueillir.
But you leave without taking advantage of it.
Tu te balades, indécise
You wander aimlessly,
Chez les sans-chemises
among the shirtless ones,
Mais qui veut te retenir,
but no one really wants to hold you back,
Dans le ruisseau, s'enlise.
and you end up stuck in the mud like a lost cause.
On te dit fière et farouche.
Many call you proud and untameable.
Suffit d'un coup de canon
However, a single gunshot can make you submit,
Pour qu'aussitôt, tu te couches
giving in to a dubious authority,
Sous un homme louche
who kills in your name.
Qui nous tue en ton nom.
Thus, freedom, you are not to be trusted.
Liberté,
For you have never really brought happiness,
Tu n'es pas sérieuse.
But are whimsical creature,
T'as déjà vu des vies heureuses
as happy lives are rare under your reign,
Que l'on vit solitaire?
often lived in loneliness and solitude?
Oh! Liberté,
You are not faithful, don't you see,
T'es pas fidèle.
Flitting around from one place to another like a butterfly,
Surveille un peu tes ailes,
you need to watch over your wings, so that you remain on the ground.
Liberté sur terre.
For your flight is too often out of reach for most people.
Pendant que t'ornais ta pique
While you wielded your spear as a symbol of rebellion,
Avec la tête d'un roi,
carrying the head of a king on it,
On te gravait, magnifique,
artists depicted you, splendid and glamorous,
Pour la république
as an emblem of the republic,
Aux murs des commissariats.
on the walls of police stations.
Ris pas, c'est pas comique.
But do not laugh, this is not funny.
Toi, que l'esclave rachète,
You who are bought by the slave,
Toi, dont on fait des statues,
whose likeness is transformed into statues,
Toi, que l'on chante à tue-tête
and whose name is sung aloud in celebrations,
Dans les jours de fêtes,
during festive occasions,
Réponds-moi: où es-tu?
Tell me, where are you really?
C'est pas la faute à Voltaire.
For it's not all Voltaire's or Rousseau's fault,
C'est pas la faute à Rousseau.
as they were only part of the larger story of freedom.
Ceux qui t'ont vue, petite mère,
Those who have seen you, dear mother,
En tenue légère,
in your light attire,
Te baigner dans le ruisseau,
bathing in a brook,
Ils sont tombés par terre,
have fallen in love with you,
Par terre.
hopelessly and completely.
Contributed by Emma P. Suggest a correction in the comments below.