First of all I will present, with the guitar chords, the original french lyrics by Serge Gainsbourg. Then I will show Mick Harvey and Alan Chamberlain's version. After that I will present my arguments as to why their version does not do Serge Gainsbourg justice. At the end I will offer what I consider the definitive English version of the song, the one that I wrote.
le poinçonneur des Lilas
EmJ'suis l'poinçonneur des Lilas AmLe gars qu'on croise et qu'on n' regarde pasC G
Y a pas d'soleil sous la terre AmDrôle de croisière BPour tuer l'ennui j'ai dans ma veste Les extraits du Reader DigestEmEt dans c'bouquin y a écrit AmQue des gars s'la coulent douce à MiamiC G
Pendant c'temps que je fais l'zouave AmAu fond d'la cave BParaît qu'y a pas d'sous-métier Moi j'fais des trous dans des billetsEm Bm Em
J'fais des trous, des p'tits trous, encor des p'tits trousEm Bm Em
Des p'tits trous, des p'tits trous, toujours des p'tits trousEm Am
Des trous d'seconde classeD G B
Des trous d'première classeEm Bm Em
J'fais des trous, des p'tits trous, encor des p'tits trousEm Bm Em
Des p'tits trous, des p'tits trous, toujours des p'tits trousBm Em Bm Em
Des petits trous, des petits trous,Bm Em Bm Em
Des petits trous, des petits trous EmJ'suis l'poinçonneur des Lilas AmPour Invalides changer à OpéraC G
Je vis au cœur d'la planète AmJ'ai dans la tête B Un carnaval de confettis J'en amène jusque dans mon litEmEt sous mon ciel de faïence AmJe n'vois briller que les correspondancesC G
Parfois je rêve je divague AmJe vois des vagues BEt dans la brume au bout du quai J'vois un bateau qui vient m'chercherEm Bm Em
Pour m'sortir de ce trou où je fais des trousEm Bm Em
Des p'tits trous, des p'tits trous, toujours des p'tits trousEm Am
Mais l'bateau se tailleD G B
Et j'vois qu'je dérailleEm Bm Em
Et je reste dans mon trou à faire des p'tits trousEm Bm Em
Des p'tits trous, des p'tits trous, toujours des p'tits trousBm Em Bm Em
Des petits trous, des petits trous,Bm Em Bm Em
Des petits trous, des petits trous EmJ'suis l'poinçonneur des Lilas
AmArts-et-Métiers direct par LevalloisC G
J'en ai marre j'en ai ma claqueAm
De ce cloaque
BJe voudrais jouer la fill' de l'air Laisser ma casquette au vestiaire
EmUn jour viendra j'en suis sûr AmOù j'pourrais m'évader dans la natureC G
J'partirai sur la grand'route AmEt coûte que coûte BEt si pour moi il n'est plus temps Je partirai les pieds devant
Em Bm Em
J'fais des trous, des p'tits trous, encor des p'tits trousEm Bm Em
Des p'tits trous, des p'tits trous, toujours des p'tits trousEm Am
Y a d'quoi d'venir dingueD G B
De quoi prendre un flingueEm Bm Em
S'faire un trou, un p'tit trou, un dernier p'tit trouEm Bm Em
Un p'tit trou, un p'tit trou, un dernier p'tit trouBm Em Bm Em
Et on m'mettra dans un grand trouBm Em Bm Em Bm Em
Où j'n'entendrai plus parler d'trou plus jamais d'trouBm Em Bm Em Bm Em
De petits trous de petits trous de petits trousI’m the ticket puncher at Lilas.
To me the passengers pay no regard.
There is no sunshine in this Metro station.
Strange vacation.
To kill the boredom, in my vest,
I have extracts from Readers Digest,
And this book says to me,
That life is just a ball in Miami,
All the while I’m working like a slave,
Down in this cave,
They say work’s better than the dole
But all day long I just make holes
I punch holes, little holes and more little holes
Little holes, little holes, always little holes
I make second class holes
And punch first class holes
I punch holes, little holes and more little holes
Little holes, little holes, always little holes
Little holes, little holes
Little holes, little holes.
Little holes, little holes.
I am the ticket puncher at Lilas
Invalids you change at Opera
I live down in the bowels of this here planet
I have in my head
A carnival of confetti that even gets between my sheets.
Under this white tile sky
The only things that shine are insect’s eyes.
Sometimes I dream, I go into a daze
And in that phase
The railway platform is a quay
A boat is coming to get me
From this hole, little hole where I make little holes
From this hole, this little hole where I make little holes
But the boat is sailing
My daydream’s always failing
In this hole, in this hole, punching little holes
Little holes, little holes, always little holes
Little holes, little holes
Little holes, little holes.
Little holes, little holes.
I am the ticket puncher at Lilas
Arts and Metiers direct by Lavallois
I’ve had enough,
I’ve had it with this bullshit
Down in this cess-pit
I’d like to get out in the trees
They can keep their cloakroom keys
One day will come I am sure
When I will get away to something more
Take a car, a plane, a train (something that rhymes with “what”)
No matter what
But if the time I have is cursed
I’ll have to leave this place feet first
I punch holes, little holes and more little holes
Little holes, little holes, always little holes
I think I will trifle
with a great big rifle
and make a hole, little hole, one last little hole
make a hole, little hole, one last little hole
and then they’ll put me in a hole
where I will hear no more of holes
Never again make little holes
Those little holes, those little holes.
There are plenty of holes in the above version, and they're not the number of times the word "holes" is used.
First of all is the use of the word "Invalids" as if the narrator is trying to say that invalids must take a certain route on the Metro in Paris. "Invalides" is the real name of a subway station in Paris and yes Gainsbourg chose the name obviously because of its double meaning. But to simply say "Invalids" takes the subtlety away that is so important in many of Serge Gainsbourg's meanings.
The second gaping hole in Harvey and Chamberlain's version is the omission of a translation of Gainsbourg's phrase: la grand'route. They ignored it and instead listed various means of transportation. I am almost certain that Gainsbourg's use of la grand'route is a reference to August Stindberg's play La Grand'Route, which in the original Swedish is Stora landsvägen, and which in English is the Great Highway. In Strindberg's play, the Great Highway is the road that leads to the graveyard. The last verse of Gainsbourg's song is all about death, first referencing it symbolically and finally literally.
The third problem is the use of the rhyme "I think I will trifle with a great big rifle". Ugh! I feel like throwing up every time I read or hear this rhyme. It's as if Dr. Seuss were translating Serge Gainsbourg.
Then there is the use of the word "rifle". I don't think that when Gainsbourg conceived of his poinçonneur putting a hole in his head that he envisioned him doing it with a rifle. First of all Gainsbourg himself liked handguns. Second of all the ticket puncher, since it's his job that is driving him to suicide, would want to kill himself at work. A rifle is an extremely impractical implement of suicide, especially if you are trying to carry it to work on the underground transit system.
It amazes me that it took two people to write this flawed English version of a Serge Gainsbourg masterpiece. But then again, maybe it's not so amazing. My observation over the years is that in general, the more writers there are behind a song, the worse the song is. Case in point: most of Britney Spears' songs have four writers for each one.
Here is my version of le poinçonneur des Lilas. Let me know what you think.
The Ticket Puncher at Lilas Station
I am the ticket puncher at Lilas
The guy you pass but don’t quite ever see there
There is no sun underneath the ground, strange way to get around
The guy you pass but don’t quite ever see there
There is no sun underneath the ground, strange way to get around
To kill the boredom, in my vest
I keep the new Reader's Digest
And inside a writer’s telling me
I keep the new Reader's Digest
And inside a writer’s telling me
That guys can lead a sweet life in Miami
While I work here just like an idiot
While I work here just like an idiot
in this covered pit
They say there are no worthless roles,
but my job’s making
but my job’s making
little
holes
I make holes, little holes, still more little holes
I make holes, little holes, still more little holes
I make holes, little holes, always little holes
Holes for second class cars, holes for those first class cars.
I make holes, little holes, still more little holes
I make holes, little holes, always little holes
Little holes, little holes, little holes, little holes
Holes for second class cars, holes for those first class cars.
I make holes, little holes, still more little holes
I make holes, little holes, always little holes
Little holes, little holes, little holes, little holes
I am the ticket puncher at Lilas,
For Invalides transfer at Opera
I live in the planet’s nucleus
For Invalides transfer at Opera
I live in the planet’s nucleus
and there's a circus of confetti in my head
that follows me right home to bed.
And staring up at my ceramic sky
that follows me right home to bed.
And staring up at my ceramic sky
I see no stars, just cold fluorescent lights
Sometimes I dream and my mind wanders, to the the water
And through the mist just off the quay
I see a ship come to get me
To take me from this hole where I make little holes
little holes, little holes, always little holes
Sometimes I dream and my mind wanders, to the the water
And through the mist just off the quay
I see a ship come to get me
To take me from this hole where I make little holes
little holes, little holes, always little holes
But the boat drifts on back to sea
And my mind flips on track to be
making holes, little holes still more little holes
Little holes, little holes, little holes, little holes
And my mind flips on track to be
making holes, little holes still more little holes
Little holes, little holes, little holes, little holes
I am the ticket puncher at Lilas,
Arts et Metiers direct by Levallois
Arts et Metiers direct by Levallois
I am backed up, while lodged here toiling down this toilet.
I want to break this cage and fly,
just leave this monkey suit behind.
and the day will come, I am sure
When I will run into the arms of nature
I will embark on the Great Highway
I want to break this cage and fly,
just leave this monkey suit behind.
and the day will come, I am sure
When I will run into the arms of nature
I will embark on the Great Highway
whatever toll I’ll pay
And if for me the time’s run out
I will leave just leave here lying down
from this hole where I make holes, still more little holes
And if for me the time’s run out
I will leave just leave here lying down
from this hole where I make holes, still more little holes
Little holes, little holes, always little holes
This job’s carried me round the bend
enough to put this gun to my head.
This job’s carried me round the bend
enough to put this gun to my head.
To make a hole, little hole, one last little hole,
little hole, little hole, one last little hole
And they’ll put me in a big hole.
where I’ll not hear or speak of holes. Last stop for holes!
Those little holes, little holes
little holes, little holes.
little hole, little hole, one last little hole
And they’ll put me in a big hole.
where I’ll not hear or speak of holes. Last stop for holes!
Those little holes, little holes
little holes, little holes.
Excellent translation
ReplyDeleteExcellent translation and a much better reflection of the original. Love this song.
ReplyDeleteThank-you Christian's Blog. We are French improvers and read the lyrics on a different website just in French. Having made our own rather crude translation, we found yours - what joy!
ReplyDeleteI've been listening to Le poin conneur des lilas since late last century in a version by 'Les Freres Jacque' and being pretty hopeless at real French thought they sang 'deputy poo, deputy poo, la la deputy poo' - a bit like the 'Reservoir Dogs' mistake. Now I know how to pronounce "les p'tites trous" and thanks to a great translation, what it all means with subtleties intact!
I too assumed that Lilas must be a place but a friend said it was the colour of the metro tickets and they were known as 'lilacs', Is this possible?
ReplyDeleteLilas is a subway station
DeleteDear Christian, Thank you for your comments. Unfortunately you have resorted to unnecessary insults and have failed to acknowledge many of the (may I say) excellent solutions we found in our translation. A quick test would demonstrate that our version can be sung in the correct meter - yours, I suspect would be most deficient in that area and, after all, I had to try and sing it.
ReplyDeleteIn response to your criticisms I would say, first of all, that Invalides suggests just what you have gone over. I am fully aware Invalides is a Metro station and the double meaning is obvious. Secondly (not second of all - which to me is poor English) ‘The Great Highway’ does not mean what you want it to in English so the attempt is lost. I readily admit my solution was not perfect but at least it means something in the language I was using. Thirdly, the rifle/trifle couplet is far from perfect and in hindsight I would gladly have changed it. Your criticism is taken on board. I’m sorry it makes you feel like throwing. But it remains irrelevant that Gainsbourg liked handguns - it’s hardly an autobiographical song. And the notion that The Ticket Puncher would want to kill himself at work is an assumption you have made with no foundation - it’s not in the song.
Finally, I did not leave The Bad Seeds because of creative differences and I find your last comment unnecessarily personal and insulting and actually quite poorly expressed. A close inspection of the two translations side by side would reveal that the solutions in my version are, on balance, better than yours - especially, but not only, with the requirement of singing them.
Further, your "by ear" transcription made several mistakes, the worst of which was "the only things that shine are insects eyes" which is, in fact, "the only things that shine are exit signs". If you feel inclined to continue insulting me you are welcome to do so at management@mickharvey.com though I suspect I will continue to be disappointed with your position. Had I failed to convey the idea of the song I would understand your venom but picking on 2 or 3 specific gripes and missing the big picture - that I have opened the song up to an English speaking audience - seems to be somewhat misdirected anger.
ReplyDeleteMan you should deflate your ego a bit, it seems to have clouded your judgement. As a native French speaker, I find your interpretation of these lyrics rather debatable.
ReplyDeleteI see no more double entendre in "Invalides" than in "Arts et Métiers", "Opéra" or "Levallois". These are simply two typical directions from the actual "Porte des Lilas" station.
No need to summon Strinberg and his Great Highway either. "Partir sur la grand'route" is a very common expression, basically the same as "partir à l'aventure", and "et si pour moi il n'est plus temps" clearly indicates it's either live a free life or die, not taking the highway to hell, as you seem to suggest.
"il y a de quoi prendre un flingue" is also a very common expression used to convey exasperation. Gainsbourg integrates it seamlessly into the song by using it both in idiomatic and literal senses, and making yet another pun on "hole". Whether he plans to use a handgun, rifle or submachinegun to shoot himself at work or in his bed is irrelevant, in my opinion. My best suggestion for translatijng it would be to use an equivalent English idiom, but I'm no native speaker so I'll leave that to someone more qualified than I am.
Being sure of something does not require ego.
DeleteBeing a native french speaker is not in itself a qualification for judging a french translation of poetry. If you are also a speaker of poetics you may have more to say in this regard.A good poet with a little french would easily be a better interpreter and translator of a french poem than someone who is simply fluent in french.
With Gainsbourg's reference to "Invalides" he is using the name to indicate that the ticket puncher feels crippled by his "metier".
Le Grand Route introduces an entire verse of metaphors about and references to death. There is little doubt that Gainsbourg would have read Strindberg.
Every writer puts himself in his characters. The ticket puncher would shoot himself with that which Gainsbourg is fascinated.
Christian,
ReplyDeleteI truly enjoyed your translation. I found it thoughtful and helped one further see the beauty in Gainsbourg's lyrics if an English speaker. Thank you.
Esther,
DeleteThank you.
Slightly off topic, but have you heard Starshooter's version of this song - it beats Gainsbourg's version hands down. You can hear it on YouTube - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1_trDwNZwWE
ReplyDeleteThanks for the link. It's an enjoyable version. I thought that I'd posted my own version here in English and French but it looks like I haven't. I put them up here in a few days.
ReplyDelete