Quelqu’un m’a dit (Someone Told Me)
In this song, Carla Bruni fantasizes about addressing a former lover in familiar terms who, she has been told, still loves her. At least that is one interpretation since the word “encore” (“quelqu'un m'a dit que tu m'aimais encore”) is ambiguous. “Encore” is a multi-purpose word that can mean “still,” “again” or even “more.” While this is useful information about French vocabulary, it requires context to fix its meaning. The lyrics in the song do not provide that information so, for our purposes, we can consider “encore” to mean “still.”
A host of questions remain unanswered. Who told her this? Who is the former lover? Is it true? Who dumped who? What are her own emotions? What are the consequences if he still loves her?
We don’t know the source of Carla’s information, and neither does she since it was late at night and she probably had one too many. We do know, though, that she seems depressed and acquires second-hand information from others. The phrase “On me dit que” (“I’m told”) appears 13 times in both present and past tenses (“me dit,” “m’a dit”). It suggests a passive posture towards the gathering and interpretation of both information and general opinions about life.
This includes not only the news about her former lover but about life in general. In the song, she expounds about life’s little value, how life passes quickly like roses fading, the bastardly passage of time that uses our sorrows to make overcoats (see NB below), and fickle destiny that mocks us by snatching whatever happiness comes within reach. This definitely reveals a depressed state of mind. As such, the 8 repetitions of the refrain “Serait-ce possible alors?” seem like an incantatory exercise in wishful thinking or a grasping at straws that might give the lie to prevailing wisdom and perhaps even change the course of events. In this case, presumably, life might not be so bleak after all.
The song leaves us in a lingering state of uncertainty about these questions, an ambiguity which has its own allure, and the beguiling melody pulls us in. The rhyme sequence is irregular but simple and straightforward in the 8 stanzas.
Carla Bruni composed the song and wrote the lyrics with Leos Carax, releasing it in 2002 on her debut album of the same name. It was a big success. Louis Bertignac produced and arranged the album and played guitar. The version of the song presented below was recorded at Le Grand Studio RTL with Carla Bruni singing and playing guitar.
A host of questions remain unanswered. Who told her this? Who is the former lover? Is it true? Who dumped who? What are her own emotions? What are the consequences if he still loves her?
We don’t know the source of Carla’s information, and neither does she since it was late at night and she probably had one too many. We do know, though, that she seems depressed and acquires second-hand information from others. The phrase “On me dit que” (“I’m told”) appears 13 times in both present and past tenses (“me dit,” “m’a dit”). It suggests a passive posture towards the gathering and interpretation of both information and general opinions about life.
This includes not only the news about her former lover but about life in general. In the song, she expounds about life’s little value, how life passes quickly like roses fading, the bastardly passage of time that uses our sorrows to make overcoats (see NB below), and fickle destiny that mocks us by snatching whatever happiness comes within reach. This definitely reveals a depressed state of mind. As such, the 8 repetitions of the refrain “Serait-ce possible alors?” seem like an incantatory exercise in wishful thinking or a grasping at straws that might give the lie to prevailing wisdom and perhaps even change the course of events. In this case, presumably, life might not be so bleak after all.
The song leaves us in a lingering state of uncertainty about these questions, an ambiguity which has its own allure, and the beguiling melody pulls us in. The rhyme sequence is irregular but simple and straightforward in the 8 stanzas.
Carla Bruni composed the song and wrote the lyrics with Leos Carax, releasing it in 2002 on her debut album of the same name. It was a big success. Louis Bertignac produced and arranged the album and played guitar. The version of the song presented below was recorded at Le Grand Studio RTL with Carla Bruni singing and playing guitar.
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On me dit que nos vies ne valent pas grand chose
Qu’elles passent en un instant comme fanent les roses On me dit que le temps qui glisse est un salaud Et que de nos chagrins il s'en fait des manteaux Pourtant quelqu'un m'a dit que tu m'aimais encore C'est quelqu'un qui m'a dit que tu m'aimais encore Serait-ce possible alors? Serait-ce possible alors? On me dit que le destin se moque bien de nous Qu'il ne nous donne rien et qu'il nous promet tout Paraît que le bonheur est à portée de main Alors on tend la main et on se retrouve fou Pourtant quelqu'un m'a dit que tu m'aimais encore C'est quelqu'un qui m'a dit que tu m'aimais encore Serait-ce possible alors? Serait-ce possible alors? Mais qui est-ce qui m'a dit que toujours tu m'aimais? Je ne me souviens plus, c'était tard dans la nuit J'entends encore la voix, mais je ne vois plus les traits “Il vous aime, c'est secret, lui dites pas que je vous l'ai dit” Tu vois quelqu'un m'a dit que tu m'aimais encore Me l'a-t-on vraiment dit que tu m'aimais encore Serait-ce possible alors? Serait-ce possible alors? On me dit que nos vies ne valent pas grand chose Qu’elles passent en un instant comme fanent les roses On me dit que le temps qui glisse est un salaud Que de nos tristesses il s'en fait des manteaux Pourtant quelqu'un m'a dit que tu m'aimais encore C'est quelqu'un qui m'a dit que tu m'aimais encore Serait-ce possible alors? Serait-ce possible alors? |
I’m told that our lives aren’t worth much
They pass in an instant, like roses fade I’m told that time slipping by is a bastard That it makes coats from our sorrows. Yet someone told me that you still loved me It’s someone who told me that you still loved me. Could it be possible, then? Could it be possible, then? I’m told that fate mocks us, That it gives us nothing and promises everything, When happiness seems within reach Then we reach out and end up crazy Yet someone told me that you still loved me It’s someone who told me that you still loved me. Could it be possible, then? Could it be possible, then? But who is it who said you still loved me? I don’t remember, it was late at night, I still hear the voice, but I no longer see the face, “He loves you, it’s secret, don’t tell him I told you.” You see, someone told me that you still loved me Did someone really tell me that you still loved me Could it be possible, then? Could it be possible, then? I’m told that our lives aren’t worth much, They pass in an instant, like roses wilt I’m told that time slipping by is a bastard, That it makes coats from our sorrows Yet someone told me that you still loved me It’s someone told me that you still loved me. Could it be possible, then? Could it be possible, then? |
NB:
1)“de nos chagrins il s'en fait des manteaux:” This phrase about coats makes little apparent literal sense but it at least has the virtue that "manteaux" rhymes with "salaud." The phrase is often disparaged as either awkward or a poetic throwaway, but it does prompt examination of the symbolism of coats in literature. Bruni proposes that passing time (the subject) has little respect for our sorrows and uses them for homely tasks like making coats. What can that mean? Well, coats are not your ordinary metaphor. To cite one famous example, when Dostoesvsky claims that "we all come out of Gogol's overcoat," he is citing the imagery in Nikolai Gogol's book "The Overcoat." There, overcoats mark social class and represent at least an opportunity for social mobility and change. More broadly, coats can symbolize protection, disguise, individuality, attraction and more. Bruni's reference may have some poetic but indeterminate merit after all. I suspect that it means that from time's perspective our sorrows don't amount to a hill of beans.
2)“on se retrouve fou:” The verb "retrouver" can mean different things like "find," "meet up," "find one's way." In this case, it means to "end up" or "find yourself" crazy.
1)“de nos chagrins il s'en fait des manteaux:” This phrase about coats makes little apparent literal sense but it at least has the virtue that "manteaux" rhymes with "salaud." The phrase is often disparaged as either awkward or a poetic throwaway, but it does prompt examination of the symbolism of coats in literature. Bruni proposes that passing time (the subject) has little respect for our sorrows and uses them for homely tasks like making coats. What can that mean? Well, coats are not your ordinary metaphor. To cite one famous example, when Dostoesvsky claims that "we all come out of Gogol's overcoat," he is citing the imagery in Nikolai Gogol's book "The Overcoat." There, overcoats mark social class and represent at least an opportunity for social mobility and change. More broadly, coats can symbolize protection, disguise, individuality, attraction and more. Bruni's reference may have some poetic but indeterminate merit after all. I suspect that it means that from time's perspective our sorrows don't amount to a hill of beans.
2)“on se retrouve fou:” The verb "retrouver" can mean different things like "find," "meet up," "find one's way." In this case, it means to "end up" or "find yourself" crazy.
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