Que c’est triste Venise (How Sad Venice Is!), 1964

In 1964, Charles Aznavour composed the melody and Françoise Dorin wrote the lyrics to the song “Que c’est triste Venise.” Although Aznavour eventually wrote over 1200 songs for himself and for many other artists, Dorin (1928-2018) was also a prolific actor and writer of plays, novels and songs.

This was Dorin’s first hit song. Her father, René Dorin (1891-1969), was a chansonnier who performed at the historic and irreverent Montmartre theater “Les Deux Ânes” (“The Two Donkies”) on the blvd de Clichy. That theater’s motto was “Bien braire et laisser rire” (“Bray well and let them laugh”). The latter was a tongue-in-cheek allusion to another French expression “bien faire et laisser dire” (“Do well and let them talk”). Aznavour released his recording as both a single and an album. It quickly became an international hit in French, in translation to other languages, and in instrumental versions.
The title to the song presents an invitation to discuss the “frontal exclamation point” (my term). In French, placing “Que” at the beginning of a sentence can have several effects. It can be interrogative to ask a question: “Que fais tu?” (“What are you doing?”). It can also express an indirect command (imperative): “Que tu reste ici” (“Stay here”). It can express a wish when it is followed by a subjunctive verb: “Que je devienne riche” (“May I/Let me become rich”). In our case, though, "que" intensifies the following statement in the manner of an exclamation point: “Que c’est triste Venise” (“Venice is so sad!” “How sad Venice is!”). Even more, the title surprises with its touch of irony because it appears counterfactual (most people do not believe that Venice is sad).
Aznavour’s song attributes the sadness in Venice not to the city itself but to the anguishing contrast between Venice’s incomparable beauty and lost love when it is experienced in that city. In this circumstance, its gondolas, piazzas, churches, museums, bridges and even the pigeons become memes for fond memories of past but irretrievable encounters. The song presaged Aznavour’s 1965 melancholy lament for lost youth in his signature anthem “La Bohème.”
I had the good fortune to live for a year near Venice in Vicenza, Italy, a decade after Aznavour’s song appeared in 1964. I experienced firsthand Venice’s unique combination of beauty and vulnerability. I learned about its delicacy and fragility during many visits while conducting academic research about failed Italian political efforts to deal with the city’s exposure to recurrent flood waters. My later acquaintance with Thomas Mann’s novella (1912) “Death in Venice,” Luchino Visconti’s film adaptation (1971), and the haunting music from Gustav Mahler’s fifth symphony in that film deepened my attachment to the city and my appreciation for the conflicting emotions it can evoke. Unlike Aznavour’s interpretation, though, for me there is an intrinsic sadness to Venice itself that arises from its melancholic manifestation of the universal dialogue between decay and grandeur.
The song’s title also provokes one to ponder the task of translation. There are only four words in the title (“Que c’est triste Venise”), so how hard can it be to translate? The “que” throws a monkeywrench into the equation, but the rest should be straightforward. Many translations opt for “How sad Venice Can Be,” which has some merit since “can be” implies conditionality and the sadness of Venice in the song arises not from the city but from its association with lost love. However, for language learners “can be” stretches the meaning of “c’est” and extrapolates information that is contained only in the text. Another candidate is: “Venice is so sad.” Personally, I opt for “How sad Venice is” despite its lack of elegance because its verb tense and vocabulary mirror the French original. One of my goals with this website is to help English language readers understand French and I think this is accomplished best, without being too literal, if the word sequence and vocabulary in the translation closely mirrors the original. This line of inquiry also prompts one to wonder why the writers did not originally choose plain-spoken alternative wording like: “Que Venise peut être triste,” “Que Venise est triste,” or simply “Triste Venise.” Considering these options, however, one appreciates the poetic element in their eventual formulation. Unfortunately, none of the English options reaches that level.
This short song has only 5 stanzas of 4 lines each and lasts less than 3 minutes. The phrase “Que c'est triste Venise” saturates the song—it appears 8 times to begin the first line in 4 of the 5 stanzas plus the second line in 2 stanzas and the last 2 lines in the final stanza. The classic full 2-line refrain “Que c'est triste Venise au temps des amours mortes, Que c'est triste Venise quand on ne s'aime plus” is both the bookends and the spine for the song since it begins verses 1 and 3 and concludes the song in verse 5. The rhyme scheme ABAB is sustained throughout. The memorable melody, commonly accompanied by lush instrumentation and Aznavour’s tremulous tenor, make an enchanting combination.
Aznavour’s song attributes the sadness in Venice not to the city itself but to the anguishing contrast between Venice’s incomparable beauty and lost love when it is experienced in that city. In this circumstance, its gondolas, piazzas, churches, museums, bridges and even the pigeons become memes for fond memories of past but irretrievable encounters. The song presaged Aznavour’s 1965 melancholy lament for lost youth in his signature anthem “La Bohème.”
I had the good fortune to live for a year near Venice in Vicenza, Italy, a decade after Aznavour’s song appeared in 1964. I experienced firsthand Venice’s unique combination of beauty and vulnerability. I learned about its delicacy and fragility during many visits while conducting academic research about failed Italian political efforts to deal with the city’s exposure to recurrent flood waters. My later acquaintance with Thomas Mann’s novella (1912) “Death in Venice,” Luchino Visconti’s film adaptation (1971), and the haunting music from Gustav Mahler’s fifth symphony in that film deepened my attachment to the city and my appreciation for the conflicting emotions it can evoke. Unlike Aznavour’s interpretation, though, for me there is an intrinsic sadness to Venice itself that arises from its melancholic manifestation of the universal dialogue between decay and grandeur.
The song’s title also provokes one to ponder the task of translation. There are only four words in the title (“Que c’est triste Venise”), so how hard can it be to translate? The “que” throws a monkeywrench into the equation, but the rest should be straightforward. Many translations opt for “How sad Venice Can Be,” which has some merit since “can be” implies conditionality and the sadness of Venice in the song arises not from the city but from its association with lost love. However, for language learners “can be” stretches the meaning of “c’est” and extrapolates information that is contained only in the text. Another candidate is: “Venice is so sad.” Personally, I opt for “How sad Venice is” despite its lack of elegance because its verb tense and vocabulary mirror the French original. One of my goals with this website is to help English language readers understand French and I think this is accomplished best, without being too literal, if the word sequence and vocabulary in the translation closely mirrors the original. This line of inquiry also prompts one to wonder why the writers did not originally choose plain-spoken alternative wording like: “Que Venise peut être triste,” “Que Venise est triste,” or simply “Triste Venise.” Considering these options, however, one appreciates the poetic element in their eventual formulation. Unfortunately, none of the English options reaches that level.
This short song has only 5 stanzas of 4 lines each and lasts less than 3 minutes. The phrase “Que c'est triste Venise” saturates the song—it appears 8 times to begin the first line in 4 of the 5 stanzas plus the second line in 2 stanzas and the last 2 lines in the final stanza. The classic full 2-line refrain “Que c'est triste Venise au temps des amours mortes, Que c'est triste Venise quand on ne s'aime plus” is both the bookends and the spine for the song since it begins verses 1 and 3 and concludes the song in verse 5. The rhyme scheme ABAB is sustained throughout. The memorable melody, commonly accompanied by lush instrumentation and Aznavour’s tremulous tenor, make an enchanting combination.
Que c'est triste Venise au temps des amours mortes Que c'est triste Venise quand on ne s'aime plus On cherche encore des mots mais l'ennui les emporte On voudrait bien pleurer mais on ne le peut plus Que c'est triste Venise lorsque les barcarolles Ne viennent souligner que des silences creux Et que le cœur se serre en voyant les gondoles Abriter le bonheur des couples amoureux Que c'est triste Venise au temps des amours mortes Que c'est triste Venise quand on ne s'aime plus Les musées, les églises ouvrent en vain leurs portes Inutile beauté devant nos yeux déçus Que c'est triste Venise le soir sur la lagune Quand on cherche une main que l'on ne vous tend pas Et que l'on ironise devant le clair de lune Pour tenter d'oublier ce qu'on ne se dit pas Adieu tout les pigeons qui nous en fait escortent Adieu Pont des Soupir, adieu rêves perdus C'est trop triste Venise au temps des amours mortes C'est trop triste Venise quand on ne s'aime plus |
How sad Venice is when love has died How sad Venice is when we no longer love each other We still search for words but weariness erases them We would like to cry but we can no longer do it How sad Venice is when the boat songs Manage to highlight only empty silences And the heart tightens when seeing gondolas Cradle the happiness of couples in love How sad Venice is when love has died How sad Venice is when we no longer love each other The museums, the churches open their doors in vain Useless beauty before our disenchanted eyes How sad Venice is at night on the lagoon When we seek a hand that nobody offers And how we speak sarcastically in the moonlight To try to forget the things we don’t say to each other Farewell all the pigeons that accompany us Farewell Bridge of Sighs, farewell lost dreams Venice is too sad when love has died Venice is too sad when we no longer love each other |
NB:
- l'ennui is a loaded word that literally means boredom, but infused by weariness, dissatisfaction and discontent perhaps best expressed as “blah.”
- Barcarolles are traditional songs serenaded by gondoliers. "Barca" is an Italian word for boat.
- Ne viennent souligner que: “ne…que” literally means “not...that” but in practice it is a “construction” that represents a more elaborate and hence fancier way than “seulement” to say “only.” The placement of the words affects meaning. “Ne” goes before the verb, although it is often dropped, but “que” goes before the “only thing” that is referenced.
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