He was bor… Read Full Bio ↴Michel Sardou (born January 26, 1947) is a French singer.
He was born in Paris, the son of Fernand Sardou and Jackie Rollin (Jackie Sardou). Contrary to what has been written at the beginning of his career, he is not the grandson of the dramatist Victorien Sardou.
He is known for songs dealing with various social and political issues, such as the rights of women in Islamic countries, clerical celibacy and colonialism. Another sometimes controversial theme found in some of his songs ("Les Ricains," for example) is respect and support for the culture and foreign policies of the United States. Another notable fact about his career is that he has focused his full attention on his homeland, ignoring the prospect of an international audience, although his 1981 single "Les lacs du Connemara" did manage to become a big international hit. A number of his hit songs were written in collaboration with Jacques Revaux, a few others (most notably "En chantant") with Italian singer Toto Cutugno.
Even in the 21st century, Michel Sardou remains immensely popular in France, selling out 18 consecutive dates at Palais Omnisports de Paris-Bercy in 2001, while his 2004 album "Du plaisir" went straight to the no. 1 spot on the French album charts.
He has been married three times, first to a French dancer, then to Babette (the mother of his children) and lastly to an lifelong friend who edits the French version of Vogue.
He is currently (2023) at the center of a controversy over a song he wrote fifty years ago: the lakes of Connemara. Juliette Armanet, a French pop starlet answering a question about a song that would made her leave a party and it was LES LACS DU CONNEMARA. Sardou, an idol of the French right, in spite of himself, is stuck between the left which finds him corny and the right which does not support that one attacks its institutions. Music is a strong force and nobody fights harder than those who LOVE certain songs. Amazingly this song has nothing to do with politics.
Tout S'Oublie
Michel Sardou Lyrics
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Et les violons de l'âme
Le goût du vent d'automne
La première de mes larmes
Tout s'oublie
Des oiseaux bariolés
Dans le ciel de Pologne
Et l'amour que l'on donne
Tout s'oublie
Les maisons où l'on vit
Les amis de passage
Le chagrin et l'ennui
Les merveilleux nuages
Tout s'oublie
La passion, la colère
Les je t'aime, les adieux
Les jours d'anniversaire
Le désir dans nos yeux
Tout s'oublie
Le plus mort de mes morts
Est l'enfant que j'étais
Et demain est encore un jour à l'imparfait
Tout s'oublie
Tout s'oublie
Les jours de solitude
Les fous-rires, les angoisses
Ces chemins dans le Sud
Où j'ai laissé mes traces
Tout s'oublie
Les victoires, les défaites
Les plaisirs et la peur
La chanson du poète
Et les frissons du cœur
Tout s'oublie
Le plus mort de mes morts
Est l'enfant que j'étais
Et demain est encore un jour à l'imparfait
Tout s'oublie
Tout s'oublie
Les photos de voyages
Les avions, les bateaux
Les hôtels de passage
Que je trouvais si beaux
Tout s'oublie
La musique d'un été
Les instants immortels
Les serments d'amitié
Comme la femme la plus belle
Tout s'oublie
Le plus mort de mes morts
Est l'enfant que j'étais
Et demain est encore un jour à l'imparfait
Tout s'oublie
Tout s'oublie
In Michel Sardou's song Tout S'Oublie, he speaks about the transience of memories and how everything eventually fades away. He mentions various vivid memories that in time, will eventually be forgotten. The nights of Barcelona with the violins of the soul, the taste of autumn wind, the first tears shed, birds in the colorful skies of Poland, childhood notebooks and the love given - all these will eventually be forgotten. Memories of houses lived in, friends who came and went, sadness and boredom, and the wonderful clouds in the sky are also memories that will someday be forgotten. Passion, anger, goodbyes, birthdays, and desire in our eyes are all fleeting memories. Victories, defeats, pleasures, and fear, the song of the poet, and the thrills of the heart will be forgotten as well.
The most dead of our deaths is the child we once were, and tomorrow is still an imperfect day. The memories of loneliness, laughter, and anxieties will all be forgotten, along with the paths in the South where we left our traces. The memories of travels, planes, boats, and beautiful hotels where we once stayed will also fade away. The music of a summer, unforgettable moments, the promises of friendships, and the image of the most beautiful woman will all eventually be forgotten. Everything fades, even the unforgettable. All memories, good or bad, slowly fade away with the passage of time.
Line by Line Meaning
Les nuits de Barcelone
Et les violons de l'âme,
Le goût du vent d'automne,
La première de mes larmes,
Tout s'oublie.
Memories of nights in Barcelona and the soulful sounds of violins, the taste of autumn wind and the first tears I cried - all get forgotten with time.
Des oiseaux bariolés
Dans le ciel de Pologne,
Les cahiers d'écoliers
Et l'amour que l'on donne,
Tout s'oublie.
Colorful birds in the skies of Poland, school notebooks and the love we give to others - all fade away from our memories eventually.
Les maisons où l'on vit,
Les amis de passage,
Le chagrin et l'ennui,
Les merveilleux nuages,
Tout s'oublie.
The houses we lived in, temporary friends we made, sadness and boredom, the beautiful clouds in the sky - all disappear from our minds over time.
La passion, la colère,
Les je t'aime, les adieux,
Les jours d'anniversaire,
Le désir dans nos yeux,
Tout s'oublie.
Intense feelings of love, anger and sadness, saying 'I love you' or goodbye, birthday celebrations, passionate desires we had in our eyes - everything fades away from our thoughts eventually.
Le plus mort de mes morts
Est l'enfant que j'étais
Et demain est encore un jour à l'imparfait.
Tout s'oublie.
The greatest loss I've suffered is the child that I used to be, and tomorrow is another day in the imperfect past. Everything eventually gets forgotten.
Les jours de solitude,
Les fous-rires, les angoisses,
Ces chemins dans le Sud
Où j'ai laissé mes traces,
Tout s'oublie.
Days of loneliness, fits of laughter, moments of anxiety, the paths I've taken in the southern regions where I've left my mark - all vanish from memory with time.
Les victoires, les défaites,
Les plaisirs et la peur,
La chanson du poète,
Et les frissons du cœur,
Tout s'oublie.
Triumphs and failures, moments of pleasure and fear, poetic songs and the heart's palpitations - all fade from our memories eventually.
Les photos de voyages,
Les avions, les bateaux,
Les hôtels de passage
Que je trouvais si beaux,
Tout s'oublie.
Pictures from my travels, planes and boats I've taken, the hotels I've stayed in that I once found beautiful - all get forgotten with time.
La musique d'un été,
Les instants immortels,
Les serments d'amitié,
Comme la femme la plus belle,
Tout s'oublie.
The music of a summer, unforgettable moments, vows of friendship and the woman who was once the most beautiful - everything eventually gets erased from our minds.
Le plus mort de mes morts
Est l'enfant que j'étais
Et demain est encore un jour à l'imparfait,
Tout s'oublie,
Tout s'oublie.
The greatest loss I've suffered is the child that I used to be, and tomorrow is another day in the imperfect past. Everything gets forgotten, everything gets forgotten.
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Written by: Didier Barbelivien, Jacques Revaud, Michel Sardou
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind