L'Orage, cover Georges Brasses

[Jean Pierre]

I continue my "cycle on water"...after the "gout de l'eau" here is the storm of Georges Brassens the words are quite tasty, I let you discover them with the text and its translation...

In the video you can see the "rain stick" that I have already used on "le gout de l'eau
It is a bamboo stick, hollow in which sticks are planted diametrically in an ascending or descending spiral, forming a kind of helical staircase inside the structure. Residual lava stones are introduced into the tube which is then plugged at both ends. These stones have the particularity of producing a high-pitched ringing sound when they collide, while being slowed down in their fall.


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Itjjbnt_tPg

Parlez-moi de la pluie et non pas du beau temps
Le beau temps me dégoute et m'fait grincer les dents
Le bel azur me met en rage
Car le plus grand amour qui m'fut donné sur terr'
Je l'dois au mauvais temps, je l'dois à Jupiter
Il me tomba d'un ciel d'orage

Par un soir de novembre, à cheval sur les toits
Un vrai tonnerr' de Brest, avec des cris d'putois
Allumait ses feux d'artifice
Bondissant de sa couche en costume de nuit
Ma voisine affolée vint cogner à mon huis
En réclamant mes bons offices

" Je suis seule et j'ai peur, ouvrez-moi, par pitié
Mon époux vient d'partir faire son dur métier
Pauvre malheureux mercenaire
Contraint d'coucher dehors quand il fait mauvais temps
Pour la bonne raison qu'il est représentant
D'un' maison de paratonnerres "

En bénissant le nom de Benjamin Franklin
Je l'ai mise en lieu sûr entre mes bras câlins
Et puis l'amour a fait le reste
Toi qui sèmes des paratonnerr's à foison
Que n'en as-tu planté sur ta propre maison
Erreur on ne peut plus funeste

Quand Jupiter alla se faire entendre ailleurs
La belle, ayant enfin conjuré sa frayeur
Et recouvré tout son courage
Rentra dans ses foyers fair' sécher son mari
En m'donnant rendez-vous les jours d'intempérie
Rendez-vous au prochain orage

A partir de ce jour j'n'ai plus baissé les yeux
J'ai consacré mon temps à contempler les cieux
A regarder passer les nues
A guetter les stratus, à lorgner les nimbus
A faire les yeux doux aux moindres cumulus
Mais elle n'est pas revenue

Son bonhomm' de mari avait tant fait d'affair's
Tant vendu ce soir-là de petits bouts de fer
Qu'il était dev'nu millionnaire
Et l'avait emmenée vers des cieux toujours bleus
Des pays imbécil's où jamais il ne pleut
Où l'on ne sait rien du tonnerre

Dieu fass' que ma complainte aille, tambour battant
Lui parler de la pluie, lui parler du gros temps
Auxquels on a t'nu tête ensemble
Lui conter qu'un certain coup de foudre assassin
Dans le mill' de mon cœur a laissé le dessin
D'un' petit' fleur qui lui ressemble

Tell me about the rain, not the sun
The good weather disgusts me and makes me cringe
The beautiful azure puts me in rage
For the greatest love that was given to me on earth
I owe it to bad weather, I owe it to Jupiter
It fell to me from a stormy sky

On a November evening, riding on the roofs
A real thunder from Brest, with the cries of skunks
Was lighting up his fireworks
Leaping from her bed in night clothes
My distraught neighbor came knocking at my door
Asking for my good offices

"I am alone and I am afraid, open me, for pity
My husband has just left to do his hard work
Poor unfortunate mercenary
Forced to sleep outside when the weather is bad
For the good reason that he is a representative
Of a lightning rod company".

Blessing the name of Benjamin Franklin
I put her in a safe place in my cuddly arms
And then love did the rest
You who sow lightning rods in abundance
Why didn't you plant some on your own house
A mistake that could not be more disastrous

When Jupiter went to be heard elsewhere
The beautiful one, having finally warded off her fear
And recovered all her courage
Returned to her home to dry her husband
By giving me an appointment on bad weather days
See you at the next storm

From that day on I never looked down
I devoted my time to contemplating the skies
Watching the clouds go by
Watching for stratus clouds, leering at nimbus clouds
Making eyes at the slightest cumulus
But she didn't come back

Her good man of husband had made so much business
I'm not sure what I'm gonna do, but I'm not sure what I'm gonna do
That he had become a millionaire
And took her to the blue skies
In stupid countries where it never rains
Where we know nothing of thunder

God grant that my lament goes, drum beating
To tell him about the rain, to tell him about the weather
To which we're headed together
To tell him that a certain murderous thunderbolt
In the mill of my heart has left the drawing
Of a little flower that looks like her

[TPB]

Very nice and thank you for the translation
Tim

[Mike_S]

Lovely JP, some really nice playing and a nice song too. Interesting lyrics, thanks for the English version.

Mike

[Hook]

I dig your rain stick, always wanted one. Nice tune, lively harmony vocal.
Rock on!

[Rene Asologuitar]

Hi Jean,
Very nice harmony on this song, and the vocals are perfect.
Very nice recording, tao include the beautiful rain stick addition.
Love this JP!!!
Rene

[Jean Pierre]

thank you guys
Georges Brassens is one of our greatest poet; composer and each of his songs are pearls at the level of the lyrics
JOSH TURNER for whom I have a great admiration had covered (..in French! one of his songs


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cMM1CV_HPhE