Last week many French-themed blogs featured various renditions of the Marseillaise in honor of Bastille Day. So I have to ask, what are your feelings about the Serge Gainsbourg reggae version?
I'm crazy...crazy about Paris...crazy about word lists...crazy about quilting...and just plain crazy in general. So when I saw this music video posted on Paris Breakfasts I had to whip out my index card list of French words meaning 'crazy'.
If you don't already follow the wonderful Carol Gillott, go visit her site immediately after reading this post. She is crazy about Paris and crazy about macarons and paints delicious watercolors.
Je sais qu'on revient pas en arrière
Et que tu ne reviendras pas non plus
Mais si tu changeais d'avis quand-même
J'te jure que tu ne serais pas déçue
J'ferais des efforts vestimentaires
Je rentrerais à l'heure prévue
On passerait les dimanche à la mer
Comme on faisait au tout début
Alors laisse-toi faire
Et laisse-moi faire
Oui laisse-moi faire
Je saurai faire
Dingue, dingue, dingue, dingue
Ça me rend fou, dis-moi où je vais avec toi
Dingue, dingue, dingue
Car je suis raide dingue, dingue de toi
Dingue, dingue, dingue, dingue
Ça me rend fou d'avoir tout gâché avec toi
Dingue, dingue, dingue
Car je suis raide dingue de toi
Je dirai à mes potes la chance que j'ai
Ceux que t'aimes pas je les verrai plus
Tu verras cette fois-ci je changerai
Même si tu m'as jamais vraiment cru
J'ai trop le cœur en bandoulière
Et le corps aux objets perdus
J'préfère encore tout foutre en l'air
Que d'être sûr que c'est foutu
Alors laisse-toi faire
Et laisse-moi faire
Oui laisse-moi faire
Je saurai faire
Dingue, dingue, dingue, dingue
Ça me rend fou, dis-moi où je vais avec toi
Dingue, dingue, dingue
Car je suis raide dingue, dingue de toi
Dingue, dingue, dingue, dingue
Ça me rend fou d'avoir tout gâché avec toi
Dingue, dingue, dingue
Car je suis raide dingue de toi
Et je cours après toi
Même s'il est tard
Et je crie sur les toits
L'envie de te revoir
Il n'est jamais trop tard
Dingue, dingue, dingue, dingue
Ça me rend fou, dis-moi où je vais avec toi
Dingue, dingue, dingue
Car je suis raide dingue, dingue de toi
Dingue, dingue, dingue, dingue
Ça me rend fou d'avoir tout gâché avec toi
Dingue, dingue, dingue
Car je suis raide dingue de toi
English Version:
Crazy, crazy, crazy
I know that we can't go back
And you will not return to me either
But maybe you will change your mind
I promise you will not be disappointed
I promise to dress up more properly
And I will come home at the arranged time
We will spend our sundays at the sea
Like we did right at the begining
So, leave it to me
And let me do my thing
Yes, leave me to it
I will know how to do it
Crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy
This is making me crazy, tell me where are we going from here
Crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy
I'm so damn crazy about you
Crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy
I pisses me off that I've messed up this thing we've had
Crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy
I'm so damn crazy about you
I will tell my buddies how lucky I am
And the ones you dont like, I won't see them again
You will see, this time I will really change
Even if you did not believe it
I've got my heart slung over my shoulder
And my bodies is made up of lost pieces
I would rather mess everything up once more
Than to be sure that everything's really over
So, leave it to me
And let me do my thing
Yes, leave me to it
I will know how to do it
Crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy
This is making me crazy, tell me where are we going from here
Crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy
I'm so damn crazy about you
Crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy
I pisses me off that I've messed up this thing we've had
Crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy
I'm so damn crazy about you
I will run after you
Even if it's pretty late
And I will shout from the rooftops
That I want to see you again
It's never too late
Crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy
This is making me crazy, tell me where are we going from here
Crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy
I'm so damn crazy about you
Crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy
I pisses me off that I've messed up this thing we've had
Crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy
I'm so damn crazy about you
You might have seen this post about the visit to a friend's childhood home near Fontainbleau.The house is named Jean de la Lune.
Since then we have learned that Jean de la Lune is a classic
old French song that parents sing to their children at bedtime. For
anglophones who are unfamiliar with it, play the video below:
Here are the lyrics in French:
Jean de la lune
Par une tiède nuit de printemps,
Il y a bien de cela cent ans,
Que sous un brin de persil sans bruit
Tout menu naquit
Jean de la Lune, Jean de la Lune.
Il était gros comme un champignon
Frêle, délicat, petit, mignon,
Et jaune et vert comme un perroquet,
Avait un bon caquet.
Jean de la Lune, Jean de la Lune
Pour canne il avait un cure-dent
Clignait de l'oeil, marchait en boitant
Et demeurant en toute saison
Dans un potiron
Jean de la Lune, Jean de la Lune.
Quand il se risquait à travers bois,
De loin, de près, de tous les endroits,
Merles, bouvreuils sur leurs mirlitons
Répétaient en rond :
Jean de la Lune, Jean de la Lune.
On le voyait passer quelquefois
Dans un coupé grand comme une noix,
Et que le long des sentiers fleuris
Traînaient deux souris,
Jean de la Lune, Jean de la Lune.
Si par hasard, s'offrait un ruisseau,
Qui l'arrêtait sur place aussitôt,
Trop petit pour le franchir d'un bond,
Faisait d'herbe un pont
Jean de la Lune, Jean de la Lune.
Quand il mourut, chacun le pleura,
Dans son potiron, on l'enterra,
Et sur sa tombe on écrivit
Sur la croix : Ci-gît :
Jean de la Lune, Jean de la Lune
I couldn't find an English translation of the song, so my friend and I
had a go at it. Quelle horreur! Now I have a deep appreciation of just
how hard it is to translate poetry. You can't translate a poem
literally or you'd lose the rhyme, meter and metaphor. Thus, we need
the help of Francophones to correct our translation (below). Where did
we lose the spirit or original meaning? Do you have suggestions for an
alternate wording?
Jean of the Moon
On a warm spring night a century ago when quietly under a parsley sprig a cute little elf was born Jean of the Moon, Jean of the Moon
small as a mushroom cute as a button yellow and green as a parakeet giggling his way down the street Jean of the Moon, Jean of the Moon
he used a toothpick as his cane he winked his eye as he limped down the lane he lived all the year
in a pumpkin sphere Jean of the Moon, Jean of the Moon
he walked through the woods, light as air from far and near and everywhere robins and finches whistled their sounds and then repeated them round and round Jean of the Moon, Jean of the Moon
sometimes we saw him pass our hut In a tiny carriage as small as a nut and all along a flowery path two little mice watched him pass Jean of the Moon, Jean of the Moon
if by chance a stream appears and blocks his path when he nears too small to take a leap a bridge of grass carries his feet Jean of the Moon, Jean of the Moon
When he died, everyone cried and his pumpkin was his final reside and on his cross these words arise: tucked in this tomb, here lies Jean of the Moon, Jean of the Moon.