Les vèrses décriront, au sense métaphorique, la vie du Poéte Sergej Esenin devenu riche et important aprés le marriage avec la danseuse Isadora Duncan.
A jewel was silted up in the mud of a dirt track. A wandering poet, discovered it. Then he picked up and cleaned it until the jewel could shine in the light
O, sensitive soul don't be afraid, poetry isn't mortal.
1- II like to walk disheveled with my head on shoulders like a light so I like to enlighten Your autumn without feathers. 2- I like that I hail the face the thick stone-throwing of injury, grab her just to feel alive the shell of my hair. 3- And in my mind back to that pond the reeds and moss flooded and my parents not know they have a son who composes verse
4- but they love me as the fields, the skin and the rain season be rare that anyone offends me saves from the tips of the fork. 5- Poor peasant parents Surely you are grown old, and still fear the Lord of heaven and marshes parents who will never understand 6- Today your son has become first among the poets of the country and now with the polished shoes and cylinder hat on head he walks.
7- But he survives in the frenzy of an old country rogue and any sign of butchery cow bows his companion. 8- And when he meets a cabbie he remembers his native manure and would like the tail of the horse will stand as a bridal train. 9- I love the country though afflicted by logs rusty I loved the dirty snouts of pigs and toads sighing in the shade
10- I am sick and childhood and memories and fresh dusk of April. It almost seems that the maple bends to warm up and then sleep. 11- From the nest of that tree eggs steal climbing to the top but is its hair always new? its hard rind as before? 12- And you my dear friend old dog made you blind and feeble old age and turn tail down in the yard unaware of the doors of the barns
13- I love my theft as a boy when I stole into the house a little bread and ate like two brothers a crumb to man and one to dog 14- I have not changed, heart and thoughts are the same on magnificent verses carpet I want to tell you something that touches you. 15- Good night, the crescent moon became quiet and the air gets dark I want to shout from my window against the disc of the moon.
16- The night is so clear Here, perhaps even dying does not hurt What if my spirit is perverse and a lantern hanging from my back. 17- O Pegaso decrepit and good-natured your gallop is now without purpose and came as a lonely master and do not sing and celebrate but mice. 18- From my head like a ripe grape dropped the mad wine of the crown I want to be a yellow sail swells to a nameless country
I just discovered Luc several days ago. Wow! His range is impressive and to take music of the past and bring it to a modern global auidance via you tube is simply awesome. Thank you for filming and posting.
Première traduction originale russe - français : Marie Miloslawsky et Franz Hellens «Serge Essenine : La confession dun voyou et autres poèmes » éditions GLM, 1956
Jai en moi des souvenirs qui saignent De larcins de pain dans la luzerne Et toi et moi mangeant comme deux frères Chien et enfant se partageant la terre Je suis toujours le même, le sang Les mêmes désirs les mêmes haines Cest le cri sale des porcs que je préfère À tous les discours qui m'indiffèrent. Je suis malade d'enfance et de sourires De frais crépuscules passés sans rien dire Je crois voir les arbres qui s'étirent Se réchauffer et s'endormir.
C'est une chanson de Angelo Branduardi.
Les vèrses décriront, au sense métaphorique, la vie du Poéte Sergej Esenin devenu riche et important aprés le marriage avec la danseuse Isadora Duncan.
cgoldchild 1 week ago
As I travel the back roads and alleys of youtube, I avoid the main stream spin on who to watch, and always seem to find beauty...
Wonderful Music, what a great talent...
2xtream 1 month ago 3
I'm so moved! Wondrous music...
zenmeister451 1 month ago
This guy is amazing..... truly unique ;}
jessxxy 2 months ago
Bravo Friend!
ladystormannie 2 months ago
Holly shit! Rock on!
maceuz 3 months ago
Because I Like Too
GrandMasterG421 3 months ago
This has been flagged as spam show
A jewel was silted up in the mud of a dirt track. A wandering poet, discovered it. Then he picked up and cleaned it until the jewel could shine in the light
O, sensitive soul don't be afraid, poetry isn't mortal.
frenchiecocorico1 3 months ago
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frenchiecocorico1 3 months ago
HOOLIGAN’S CONFESSION
Poem: Sergueï Yessenine "the confession of a lout" (1924)
Adaptation and song lyrics: Angelo Branduardi
(original italian lyrics and french lyrics sung by Luc Arbogast at the end of the comments)
frenchiecocorico1 3 months ago
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frenchiecocorico1 3 months ago
This has been flagged as spam show
frenchiecocorico1 3 months ago
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frenchiecocorico1 3 months ago
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frenchiecocorico1 3 months ago
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frenchiecocorico1 3 months ago
I just discovered Luc several days ago. Wow! His range is impressive and to take music of the past and bring it to a modern global auidance via you tube is simply awesome. Thank you for filming and posting.
Joe - Weymouth, MA - USA
21beachhead 3 months ago
Je ne parle pas français. Mais j'écris cela en français juste pour montrer mon respect à ce talent incroyable.
kuntumut 4 months ago
Does anybody have a half competent recording of this brilliant performer?
I have looked at dozens- either the video is pathetic, or most often the sound recording is amateur at best.
GaryHurd 4 months ago
@GaryHurd Hey, check out this:
watch?v=DuT2U3CjXYA&feature=related
Also, you have good musical tastes!
megadethmonk 3 months ago
@GaryHurd dont be a dick.
d3tach3d 3 months ago
the animosity between posters of comments in different languages is stupid.
the internet is for communication, not competition. lrn2read
guthix222 4 months ago
Nice
clodfelter25 4 months ago
His projection is just magnificent.
Madvillane 4 months ago
Google Translate is your friend, fellow English speakers...
Luc, you are amazing!
fedaykincmndr 4 months ago
Google Translate is your friend, fellow English speakers...
fedaykincmndr 4 months ago
I Am PuertoRican And All I Can Say About Luc Arbogast Is That He Has The Most Phenominal Voice Its So Impressive
GrandMasterG421 4 months ago
@GrandMasterG421 Why did you capitalize the first letter of every word?
TairyGreen89 4 months ago
yay... english comment!
Teksites 4 months ago
(random english comment)
TheFelixSlider 6 months ago 93
@TheFelixSlider love it :) made ma ha out loud....
TheGhettostylus 3 months ago
Bellissima interpretazione dal sapore antico medievale. Complimenti. Luca.
lucafreddi1 1 year ago
Superbe interprétation,habitée et pleine d'émotion servi par une voix hors du commun.
orphee10 1 year ago
LES CONFESSIONS DUN MALANDRIN (LA CONFESSION DUN VOYOU)
Poème, 1924: Sergueï Aleksandrovitch Essenine (1895-1925)
Première traduction originale russe - français : Marie Miloslawsky et Franz Hellens «Serge Essenine : La confession dun voyou et autres poèmes » éditions GLM, 1956
Retraduction italienne : Renato Pogglioti «Poemetti Liriche Frammenti», 1961
Retraduction française du texte de la chanson dAngelo Branduardi: Etienne Roda-Gil, 1981
Musique : Angelo Branduardi, 1972
frenchiecocorico1 2 years ago
Un joyau se cachait dans la boue d'un chemin creux. Un poête vagabondant dans les parages, le ramassa et le fit ruisseler de lumière..
Ames sensibles ne pas s'abstenir, la poésie n'est pas mortelle.
frenchiecocorico1 2 years ago 9
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frenchiecocorico1 2 years ago
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frenchiecocorico1 2 years ago
Version originale italienne d'Angelo Branduardi, suivie par les paroles françaises chantées par Luc Arbogast
frenchiecocorico1 2 years ago
CONFESSIONI DI UN MALANDRINO
(Angelo Branduardi)
frenchiecocorico1 2 years ago
Mi piace spettinato camminare
il capo sulle spalle come un lume
e mi diverto a rischiarare
il vostro autunno senza piume.
Mi piace che mi grandini sul viso
la fitta sassaiola dell'ingiuria,
mi agguanto solo per sentirmi vivo
al guscio della mia capigliatura
frenchiecocorico1 2 years ago
Ed in mente mi torna quello stagno
che le canne e il muschio hanno sommerso
ed i miei che non sanno di avere
un figlio che compone versi;
ma mi vogliono bene come ai campi
alla pelle ed alla pioggia di stagione,
raro sara che chi mi offende
scampi alle punte del forcone
frenchiecocorico1 2 years ago
Poveri genitori contadini,
certo siete invecchiati e ancor temete
il Signore del cielo e gli acquitrini,
genitori che mai non capirete
che oggi il vostro figliolo a diventato
il primo tra i poeti del Paese
e ora in scarpe verniciate
e col cilindro in testa egli cammina.
frenchiecocorico1 2 years ago
Ma sopravvive in lui la frenesia
di un vecchio mariuolo di campagna
e ad ogni insegna di macelleria
la vacca si inchina sua compagna.
E quando incontra un vetturino
gli torna in mente il suo concio natale
e vorrebbe la coda del ronzino
regger come strascico nuziale.
frenchiecocorico1 2 years ago
Voglio bene alla patria
benche afflitta di tronchi rugginosi
m'a caro il grugno sporco dei suini
e i rospi all'ombra sospirosi.
Son malato di infanzia e di ricordi
e di freschi crepuscoli d'Aprile,
sembra quasi che l'acero si curvi
per riscaldarsi e poi dormire
frenchiecocorico1 2 years ago
Dal nido di quell'albero, le uova
per rubare, salivo fino in cima
ma sara la sua chioma sempre nuova
e dura la sua scorza come prima;
e tu mio caro amico vecchio cane,
fioco e cieco ti ha reso la vecchiaia
e giri a coda bassa nel cortile
ignaro delle porte dei granai.
frenchiecocorico1 2 years ago
Mi sono cari i miei furti di monello
quando rubavo in casa un po' di pane
e si mangiava come due fratelli
una briciola l'uomo ed una il cane.
Io non sono cambiato,
il cuore ed i pensieri son gli stessi,
sul tappeto magnifico dei versi
voglio dirvi qualcosa chge vi tocchi.
frenchiecocorico1 2 years ago
Buona notte alla falce della luna
se cheta mentre l'aria si fa bruna,
dalla finestra mia voglio gridare
contro il disco della luna.
La notte e` cosi tersa,
qui forse anche morire non fa male,
che importa se il mio spirito e perverso
e dal mio dorso penzola un fanale.
frenchiecocorico1 2 years ago
O Pegaso decrepito e bonario,
il tuo galoppo e ora senza scopo,
giunsi come un maestro solitario
e non canto e celebro che i topi.
Dalla mia testa come uva matura
gocciola il folle vino delle chiome,
voglio essere una gialla velatura
gonfia verso un paese senza nome.
frenchiecocorico1 2 years ago
CONFESSION D'UN MALANDRIN
(Angelo Branduardi)
frenchiecocorico1 2 years ago
Je passe, les cheveux fous dans vos villages
La tête comme embrasée d'un phare qu'on allume
De mon visage, je chante les orages
Je chante la nuit, la pluie, les plages.
Les arbres, voient la lame de mon visage
Où glisse la souillure des injures
Je dis au vent l'histoire de ma chevelure
Qui m'habille et me rassure
frenchiecocorico1 2 years ago
Je revois l'étang de mon enfance
Où les ruisseaux et toutes les mousses dansent
Et tous les miens qui n'ont pas eu la chance
D'avoir un fils sans espérance.
Mais ils m'aiment comme ils aiment la terre
Ingrate à leurs souffrances à leurs misères
Si quelqu'un me salissait de reproches
Ils montreraient la pointe de leurs pioches.
frenchiecocorico1 2 years ago
Paysans pauvres, mes pères et mères
Accrochés à la boue de cette terre
Craignant les seigneurs et leurs colères
Pauvres parents qui n'êtes même pas fiers
Davoir un fils poète qui se promène
Dont on parle chez les rois et chez les reines
Qui dans des escarpins vernis et sages
Blesse ses pieds larges et son courage
frenchiecocorico1 2 years ago
frenchiecocorico1 2 years ago
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frenchiecocorico1 2 years ago
Mais subsistent en moi comme lumières
Les ruses d'un voyou de basse terre
Devant l'enseigne d'une boucherie campagnarde
Je pense aux chevaux morts, mes camarades.
Et si je vois traîner un fiacre
Jailli d'un passé que le temps frappe
Je me revois aux noces de campagne
Parmi les chairs brûlées des paysannes
frenchiecocorico1 2 years ago
Au nid qui tient la couvée toute neuve
Jirai passer pas mal de nuit blanche
Mais l'effort sera toujours le même
Et aussi dure comme la vieille Écorce
Et toi le grand chien de mes promenades
Enroué, aveugle et bien malade
Tu tournes la queue basse dans la ferme
Sans savoir qui entre ou qui t'enferme
frenchiecocorico1 2 years ago
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frenchiecocorico1 1 year ago
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frenchiecocorico1 1 year ago
Bonne nuit, faucille de la lune
Brillante dans les blés qui te font brune
De ma fenêtre j'aboie des mots que j'aime
Quand dans le ciel je te vois pleine.
La nuit semble si claire
Qu'on aimerait bien mourir pour se distraire
Tant pis si mon esprit bat la campagne
Et qu'on montre du doigt mon idéal
frenchiecocorico1 2 years ago
Cheval presque mort et débonnaire
A ton galop sans hâte et sans mystère
J'apprends comme d'un maître solitaire
A chanter toutes les joies de la terre.
De ma tête comme d'une grappe mûre
Coule le vin chaud de ma chevelure
De mon sang sur une immense voile pure
Je veux écrire les rêves des nuits futures.
frenchiecocorico1 2 years ago
Comment pouvez-vous avoir des cheveux non peignés ? :-)
Sérieusement, tu es bravo !
PittiGiuly 2 years ago