Remembering André Salmon 54 years after his passing, March 12, 1969

 

André Salmon, no date, Sanary?

We remember André Salmon, poet, critic, novelist and humanist

on the 54th anniversary of his passing on March 12, 1969

Sanary-sur-Mer, France

His poem "Fraternité" was set to music by Charles Aznavour in 1960.

Here is the song, sung by Charles Aznavour: Fraternité

And interpreted by Marc Ogeret:

The poem/lyrics:

Nous rentrions très tard, mêlant
Des vers purs à des chants obscènes
Et l'on s'asseyait sur un banc
Pour regarder rêver la Seine.

Sur l'eau rien ne vivait encore
Ainsi qu'une ouvrière lasse
Pressant sur ses flancs ses fils morts
La Seine dormait dans sa crasse.

Nos cœurs d'ivrognes s'emplissaient
D'une bienfaisante latrie
Si le soleil levant doraient
Les marronniers des Tuileries.

Pour mieux évoquer l'ancien soir
Le plâtre et le vin des tavernes
Égayaient nos vieux habits noirs
Et nos plastrons d'hommes modernes.

Alors, ayant honte, vraiment
De nous connaître aussi lyriques
Nous offrions un coup de blanc
Aux balayeurs mélancoliques.

Vaine ruse! et l'on découvrait
Dans le balayeur un poète
Si bien que les verres tremblaient
Sur le comptoir, autel de fête!

Et pour que ce soir sans égal
Fût perpétué un pandore
En dressait le procès verbal
Parsemé d'attendus sonores.

In English

Coming home quite late, mixing

Pure verses with obscene songs
We sat on a bench
Watching the Seine dream on

Nothing was still alive on the water
Not even a weary working women
Pressing to her flanks her dead children
In her filth, the Seine slept on

Our drunken hearts swelled up
With a benevolent Trinity prayer
As if the rising sun were gilding
The chestnut trees in the Tuileries' air.

To better remember that begone evening

The plaster walls and the wine of those bars

Brightening up our old black clothing

Our starched shirt fronts for modern men.

And being very much ashamed

Of someone recognizing our lyric selves

We offered a shot of white wine

To those melancholy sweeping men.

A vain trick, we would discover

The sweeper was a poet too

Who really made those glasses shake 

On the bar's counter, the altar of good cheer!

And so, on that extraordinary night

A Pandora was launched without end

Setting down a full report

Sprinkled with the sounds of expectations.