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Le Bel Age is my favorite. Early song, 1964,Golden Age of Brel, Dylan, Cohen, Ochs, Mitchell etc. It's about an older woman's love affair with a handsome young boy of 20 years. Eventually he leaves her for his first love, but mmmm--before that.... Most of the others I am familiar with. 10. Le Petite Cantate 14. Au bois de Saint-Amand 22. Nantes Don't know what les Repaces means.

"Les Repaces" may also be a misspelling on my part.

I'll listen to "Le Bel Age" from that perspective , knowing that's what's being sung . There's also a certain level of implicit understanding [and forgiveness] when someone returns to their original love. At least the way I see it. Those bonds are entrenched and run deep... hard to replace with others. To be left for an original love would be unlike being left for a new one. More easily processed and resolved within. Thanks for the jist, Lightning.

~ Lizzy

The young boy didn't go back to an original love, he meant he found his first love after their affair. Barbara, like Don Juan's reckless daughter, is a great celebrator of the amourette, something I don't think we have a word for. It happened, it was sensual, now it's over. C'est ca. She writes a song. Kind of like Leonard Cohen, eh? Barbara was a French Jew during the holocaust, spent her childhood running from Nazis, moving from place to place. born Monique Serf, her talent was discovered early and she spent most of her life performing.

You can find all her lyrics on the net.

Barbara
Le bel âge Paroles et Musique: Barbara   1964
 
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Il avait presque vingt ans.
Fallait, fallait voir
Sa gueule : c'était bouleversant.
Fallait voir pour croire,
A l'abri du grand soleil.
Je l'avais pas vu venir.
Ce gosse, c'était une merveille
De le voir sourire.

Voilà que, timidement,
Le Jésus me parle
De tout, de rien, de sa maman.
Tu parles, tu parles.
J'aime beaucoup les enfants.
J'ai l'esprit de famille
Mais j'ai dépassé le temps
De jouer aux billes.

Il avait presque vingt ans
Et la peau si douce.
J'ai cueilli du bout des dents
La fleur de sa bouche
Et j'ai feuilleté pour lui
Un livre d'images
Qu'était pas du tout écrit
Pour les enfants sages.

Tant de jours et tant de nuits.
Donne, mais je te donne,
Lui pour moi, et moi pour lui
Et nous pour personne
Mais il fallait bien qu'un jour,
Je perde mes charmes.
Devant son premier amour,
J'ai posé les armes.

Elle avait presque vingt ans.
Fallait, fallait voir
Sa gueule : c'était bouleversant.
Fallait voir pour croire
Ils avaient tous deux vingt ans
Vingt ans, le bel âge...

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Ah, yes, well the pain ~ had there been more of an emotional investment ~ would be different, then. Yet, for her in that situation, of course, it was quite predictable, so an affair of the heart and the body was what it was... without further expectation. She can at least look at it and say, "This was an affair... but that is love," and recognize the difference.

That's a very interesting story with Barbara... so the writing of this song seems quite natural for her. She may have had a life of feeling love and sensual pleasure where she could find it, even if enroute to elsewhere. At least she wants to celebrate her affair in song .

Yes, it is a bit similar to Leonard during some of his earlier years, though as I've mentioned before, his track record with long-term relationships is better than that of many, then or now.

What you've said about Barbara really makes me want to see if I can find the translation of her lyrics ~ perhaps, on her website [though I don't recall that].

Thanks for the information, Lightning. I'm loving Barbara's voice.

~ Lizzy

Ah! I just scrolled up after posting this and see you've answered my question regarding her lyrics .

help from the Word reference Forum for A Mourir pour Mourir comes as follows from Matt F, senior member from UK:
I'm no poet, but let's try this on for size:

To die, for die I must,
I choose a tender age
To leave, for leave I must,
I have no wish to wait,
I do not want to wait.

I far prefer to go
While I'm still fair and hale;
They'll never see my face
Grow old beneath my veil
Nor fade beneath my lace.

A French member tells me "A mourir pour mourir" is colloquial for "To die, since I must die...."
Who could have figured that out?

As colloquialisms go, though, it sure makes sense, doesn't it ? It's good to get 'to the bottom' of this. A beautiful song.

~ Lizzy

nila wrote:of course translations are a great thing if they're done serieusly, I'm the first who will agree with you about this! But it can never be the same, as you say, that's impossible. I don't know any translation of Brel, neighter in German nor in English, who keeps really as close as possible to the original. Naturally, it's specially difficult with songs, you have to conserve the rhytm and all...

This is it, dear.

Ligthning and Lz, what I mean is that we are not all equal. Some have more capacities and talent to translate abstraited text than others. I hope I did not insult anybody, I for example could not go to Olympic game as a... whatever discipline. I could not and this is not insulting me and I don't think that some other people can not go there. For example. This is why I said this.

Lightning, I know that you never make fun of me (at least not in my face ) and G_d knows that you could have! Some others too are in this case, and this is really appreciated, you know. I'm a lot like you : I love so much the accents and the non usual (but often correct!!) choices of words my-non-native-tongue-speakers employ sometimes This is so sexy and/or charming in my eyes. That's great that Antonio made you discover a singer that you like!

Antonio, of course, this Italian guy Paolo Conti, is well known here. I like him. As well as his brother, but what's is first name? X Conti?

Tchocolat:

Paolo Conte's brother is Giorgio Conte. Physically, they are pretty equals, almost like twins, as far as I know. But Giorgio style is different, near this kind of nostalgic and soft ballad from Nápoles. Together they composed some songs, such as "Gelato al limon". Conte is older and always wear elegant clothes. For me he is a true entertainer, hilarious, clever, charming, and also a really good musician. He has the taste for the murmured song, and sometimes sings: "doo doo doo doo daa", he also plays the kazoo, this little carnival "trumpet"; he says he wants that in his tomb someone would write: the best kazoo player in the world. Certainly, as nobody will dare do that, I will do if he dies first (well, I hope, he is 70 and I 29). I'll be inmensely pleased to grant his wish and write this epitaph! (he he)

That's Giorgio! (and that is Conte ). Well Antonio, run for epitaph! (and worth the risk to be accused of lack of respect, as long as it is the guy's will )

"doo doo doo doo daa", I sang this after him. The kazoo is a festive instrument.

Do you know that Paolo sometimes was called the Italian Leonard Cohen. Hum... and I will try to retrieve this article in which Leonard Cohen is complaining about one of his woman wanting him to do stuff like Conte. I read this some years ago now. (Where it is?).

Tchocolatl:

it will be fine if you or anybody else could find this article and show all of us.
Well, the "italian Leonard Cohen", it is a strange comparison; the two of them belongs to different musical universes, unlees they share, as I said, the gift of a "golden voice".
Paolo Conte is also known as the "italian Tom Waits", and this makes him really angry: why not to think that Tom Waits is the "american Paolo Conte", seeing that both of them started their official discography in 1974? (if I am not mistaken). The fact is that Conte has a strong personality on his own, and that he is not subordinated to other international, more famous figures. I have read this comparisons annoy him quite a bit.
The fancy thing about Conte is, I guess, that he looks very serious, with his an almost angry face, but his music is, sometimes, like an ironic game, an invitation to dance. Neverthless, his last album, "Elegia", seems to introduce in deeper levels of meaning; a sad album with elegiac contents where he confesses he wanted to approach the minimalism of certain chanson; he is also a devoted fan of Brel, Brassens, Barbara and others, and considered himself a bit French (he said il Piamonte really belongs to France, and that he is italian by mistake: I read it in an interview, and was very suprised!).

Best whises

After having posted, I wondered if it could be a text he himself have written. I'll check anyway. But if it is on hard support, phew! What a job. I'm an addict to search engine because it is SOOOooooo useful. I miss it every time I open a book or a news paper etc. in order to look for an information.

Yes, to compare two apples can sometimes be useless, moreover, they seems to have make the path in reverse. LC from sadness to happiness (finally) and PC the other way round.

It seems to me that his brother is more popular than he is, in the present time. Do you have this feeling too? It seems to me that when I ear a Conte on the radio, it is Giorgio, now, all the time.

For Paolo wanting to be French. Well. This seems to happen all the time, people have - for some reason - a personal affinity with a culture and they think that they would have fit this culture more than their native one. For example, right now, I have in mind "Spanish", and "Italian", a "Russian", and two of the three never put a foot in this other country in their heart.

Another reason may be that France is the capital of art of the XX and XXI century. Don't you think so? Many European artists, particularly writers, (any kind of writings) seem to be attracted to France. I think right now to Hungarians writers, for example, who are francophiles a lot (or were?).

Tchocolatl:

I don't know where you live, in what country; here in Spain Giorgio Conte is pretty unknown, but Paolo always gets a big attention; ticket concerts instantly sold out and great expectation for his first moves.
And for this interest in other countries, I think it is a common feeling, because we are all exiled, we belong to nowhere in this fragmented, obscure world where we have lost the sense of community and roots of ancient cultures. Intelllectualy, sentimentaly, socially exiled? Maybe this is our condition, and we are trying to find some sort of paradise where we can recognise ourselves. Well this is a personal opinion, don't want to hurt no one.

Best whises

And for this interest in other countries, I think it is a common feeling, because we are all exiled, we belong to nowhere in this fragmented, obscure world where we have lost the sense of community and roots of ancient cultures. Intelllectualy, sentimentaly, socially exiled? Maybe this is our condition, and we are trying to find some sort of paradise where we can recognise ourselves.

Dear Antonio ~

I find this a very interesting observation and one with which I, at least in part, agree. The part[s] I don't agree with, I can't as yet identify. One of the things I have felt through the years is a wistful admiration for various cultures, those with identifiable markers and shared traditions. I've watched them dance; wear their costumes; enjoy their distinctive jewelry; handicrafts, and art; play their identifiable music; eat their characteristic food; and speak their native tongue ~ and I've enjoyed all of that, as well as noting and observing the similarities in their facial and other physical features. As a young girl, I loved the Polish weddings; yet, because my maternal grandmother died soon after childbirth, and my maternal grandfather, as well, when my mother was quite young, she was raised by an absolutely wonderful woman, yet one unattached to a particular culture. As the years went on, my mother's life became gradually more a part of her foster mother's world, with communications continuing with her blood relatives, yet immersion in that culture still lessening.

As I grew older, I watched in near-envy the Greeks in Tarpon Springs, Florida; the blacks in the U.S. as they struck up immediate and friendly conversations with one another, whilst the anglos sat staring straight ahead, unspeaking, and as they ate their own foods; the Italians in their homes, where I visited; the Lebanese, in the home of my girlfriend; the Jewish with their various celebrations; the Chinese, as the family works the restaurant, small children included, and sit eating at the back table, together, with the Chinese music playing over the sound system; the north, central, and South Africans, as they display their wares and play their individual music at festivals; the Germans with their beer, costumes, and oompah music; the Thai restaurants, where their unique and delicious food is served, their music played, and their own forms of art adorn the walls; the Japanese, Vietnamese, and Laotians doing the same; and a number of other ones, as well. The blacks and the Jewish may not be cultures in the sense that the others are, yet they have those significant ties that bind. I love international festivals because I'm able to wander and take in all the wealth of the individual countries.

I wished I had more of that in my own life. When I think of the U.S. or American, I wonder how we could truly say we have these kinds of markers of our, particular culture. Some have called us a melting pot and others a tossed salad. However, in the sense that you seem to be speaking, we really do lack that sense of community and roots of ancient culture. I feel we have it in some ways, in some places, with some people; yet, as a general rule, I feel its lacking. The world has opened up, and that's brought many wonderful things; yet, I pray the dilution of the cultures will not happen. Still, it seems I pray in vain. I've listened to segments on the radio about this very thing, and how many of the young people are abandoning their ways of olde to go to the larger cities, and move up and out, toward the money and the materialism, and that these precious cultures are dying. For me, one of the most precious things I can get is something authentic from another culture. It means so much to me, as it invariably has a richness of texture, colour, skilled craft, and energy ~ one or all of these ~ that speaks to so many years of practice and passing down through the generations. I fear the loss of the handwoven exquisiteness and beauty of the rugs of Iraq, Iran, and Afghanistan.

As more goes wrong and cruelty seems to abound in varied ways, I feel we do become more alienated from even ourselves and that a part of us longs for that identification and feeling of safety that comes from the families and extended families that live out their lives in their own villages, knowing each other from birth to death. Again, I'm reminded of the nostalgic feelings I got as I watched the film "Fiddler on the Roof" last weekend.

Anyway, Antonio, I feel there's a lot of wisdom that addresses us at a deeper level, that level that wants [needs?] to feel 'a part' of something bigger than ourselves. Yes, Christianity and other spiritual practices bring that sense of community, as well... yet having something that is part of your DNA seems to be longed for, as well.

I enjoyed reading that paragraph of yours, Antonio. I'll stop now, but it really struck some deep chords in me, and my feeling was "Yes."

~ Lizzy

That really struck a chord with me. I could relate to most of it. However for other reasons. My family is so racially and culturally diverse that I have never known which culture to identify with and so have never truly felt a part of anything. I've stood on the outskirts of the world all my life looking in and longing to belong somewhere. Wow. That's an intimate detail I never thought I'd share.......hmm. Sounds like a poem brewing in there somewhere.............