1761 RESULTATS
total 1761
album
titre
alt.
durée
compo/artiste
description
mots-clés
-
-
Chanson de Craonne
[CEZ4383 - 18] -
2
- 4'16
- Julien Vega d'après D.P.
- Paroles [...] Chanson 1917. Historique & dramatique. Voix d'homme & accordéon.
- guerre (paroles), narration historique, chanté en français, cinéma français, France [...]
Titre : Chanson de CraonneRéférence : CEZ4383 - 18Compositeur(s): Domaine PublicAuteur(s) : Domaine publicArrangeur(s) : Julien VegaLC : 10347Album: Les Parisiens, French songs from 1900 to 1950Editeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
guerre (paroles), narration historique, chanté en français, cinéma français, France, chanteur , film historique, valse musette, bal musette, destin, documentaire d'archive, drame social, patrimoine, tragique, balancement, duo, émouvant, triste, accordéon chromatique, sinistre, acoustique, chanson traditionnelle, lent, medium, version principale
-
-
Chanson de Craonne Alternate 1
[CEZ4383 - 41] - 0
- 1'41
- Julien Vega d'après D.P.
- Version instrumentale. Nostalgique & émouvant. Accordéon solo.
- cabaret retro, narration historique, cinéma français, France, film historique [...]
Titre : Chanson de Craonne Alternate 1Référence : CEZ4383 - 41Compositeur(s): Domaine PublicArrangeur(s) : Julien VegaLC : 10347Album: Les Parisiens, French songs from 1900 to 1950Editeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
cabaret retro, narration historique, cinéma français, France, film historique, tragique, valse musette, accordéon chromatique, bal musette, destin, documentaire d'archive, drame social, mélancolique, patrimoine, désolé, émouvant, triste, underscore, balancement, sinistre, duo, introspectif, acoustique, chanson traditionnelle, instrumental, lent, medium, version alternative
-
-
Chanson de Craonne Alternate 2
[CEZ4383 - 42] - 0
- 1'29
- Julien Vega d'après D.P.
- Version instrumentale. Nostalgique & émouvant. Accordéon solo.
- cabaret retro, narration historique, cinéma français, France, film historique [...]
Titre : Chanson de Craonne Alternate 2Référence : CEZ4383 - 42Compositeur(s): Domaine PublicArrangeur(s) : Julien VegaLC : 10347Album: Les Parisiens, French songs from 1900 to 1950Editeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
cabaret retro, narration historique, cinéma français, France, film historique, mélancolique, accordéon chromatique, bal musette, destin, documentaire d'archive, drame social, patrimoine, valse musette, désolé, émouvant, triste, underscore, balancement, introspectif, solo, acoustique, chanson traditionnelle, instrumental, lent, medium, version alternative
-
-
A Thorny Question
[CEZ4319 - 9] - 0
- 2'03
- Baptiste Thiry [Sacem]
- En attente. Interrogatif & patient. Ensemble de cordes & electronics.
- narration historique, film d'entreprise, histoire contemporaine, drame social, politique [...]
Titre : A Thorny QuestionRéférence : CEZ4319 - 9Compositeur(s): Baptiste Thiry [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: Tricky QuestionsEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
-
-
Subprime Credit
[CEO2108 - 19] - 0
- 1'19
- Julien Vega [Sacem]
- Tendu, simple & dépouillé. Violon solo. Staccato.
- narration historique, grinçant, drame social, inquiétant, scandé [...]
Titre : Subprime CreditRéférence : CEO2108 - 19Compositeur(s): Julien Vega [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: Krach, Sommes-nous prêts pour la nouvelle crise ? - Musique originale de Julien VegaEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem] - Yuzu Productions [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
-
-
The Rise of The Railway
[CEO2111 - 1] -
2
- 2'42
- Pablo Pico [Sacem]
- Urgent, exaltant & western @ 1'57. Orchestre à cordes, clarinette, célesta & percussions @ 1'29, [...]
- déterminé, narration historique, destin, exaltant, train [...]
Titre : The Rise of The RailwayRéférence : CEO2111 - 1Compositeur(s): Pablo Pico [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: La Saga du Rail - Musique originale de Pablo PicoEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
déterminé, narration historique, destin, exaltant, train, aventure, confiant, musique néo classique, patrimoine, cavalcade, progression, scandé, travelling, urgent, fédérateur, fier, lumineux, orchestre à cordes, rigoureux, staccato, time-lapse, aérien, crescendo, majestueux, grand espace, panoramique, sifflement, western, célesta, clarinette, cloche, émouvant, western contemporain, acoustique, instrumental, rapide, version principale
-
-
The Rise of The Railway [...]
[CEO2111 - 26] - 0
- 1'10
- Pablo Pico [Sacem]
- Urgent, joyeux & exaltant. Orchestre à cordes & vibraphone.
- déterminé, exaltant, aérien, aventure, destin [...]
Titre : The Rise of The Railway Alternate 1Référence : CEO2111 - 26Compositeur(s): Pablo Pico [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: La Saga du Rail - Musique originale de Pablo PicoEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
déterminé, exaltant, aérien, aventure, destin, gai & joyeux, narration historique, panoramique, grand espace, patrimoine, urgent, confiant, cristallin, progression, fédérateur, lumineux, musique néo classique, orchestre à cordes, rigoureux, en attente, entraînant, fier, majestueux, scandé, vibraphone, émouvant, staccato, acoustique, instrumental, medium, rapide, version alternative
-
-
The Rise of The Railway [...]
[CEO2111 - 27] - 0
- 0'30
- Pablo Pico [Sacem]
- Urgent, exaltant. Orchestre à cordes, clarinette & percussions.
- aventure, déterminé, exaltant, grand espace, confiant [...]
Titre : The Rise of The Railway Alternate 2Référence : CEO2111 - 27Compositeur(s): Pablo Pico [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: La Saga du Rail - Musique originale de Pablo PicoEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
aventure, déterminé, exaltant, grand espace, confiant, destin, lumineux, musique néo classique, narration historique, panoramique, patrimoine, urgent, aérien, fier, gai & joyeux, progression, scandé, clarinette, désert chaud, en attente, fédérateur, orchestre à cordes, rigoureux, majestueux, rythmique, crescendo, célesta, émouvant, staccato, 30 s, acoustique, instrumental, medium, rapide, version alternative
-
-
Arms and the Women
[CEO2100 - 18] - 0
- 1'21
- Gréco Casadesus [Sacem]
- Urgent & déterminé. Orchestre à cordes & pizz.
- politique, artisanat, narration historique, déterminé, ressources humaines [...]
Titre : Arms and the WomenRéférence : CEO2100 - 18Compositeur(s): Gréco Casadesus [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: 100 Original ScoresEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
politique, artisanat, narration historique, déterminé, ressources humaines, saccadé, post-classical, rigoureux, temps (tic-tac), fougueux, industrie, mécanique, orchestre à cordes, poursuite, staccato, urgent, cascade, confiant, cyclique, pizzicato, cavalcade, fourmillant, interrogatif, obstiné, inquiétant, acoustique, instrumental, rapide, très rapide, version principale
-
-
Cathedrals of the Industrial [...]
[CEO2078 - 22] -
6
- 1'42
- Gréco Casadesus [Sacem]
- Solennel, tragique & tendu. Orchestre à cordes, clarinette & cymbalum.
- narration historique, documentaire d'archive, destin, histoire contemporaine, newsreel [...]
Titre : Cathedrals of the Industrial Age Alternate 2Référence : CEO2078 - 22Compositeur(s): Gréco Casadesus [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: Gares d'Europe, Les Temples du Voyage - Musique originale de Gréco CASADESUSEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem] - Yuzu Productions [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
narration historique, documentaire d'archive, destin, histoire contemporaine, newsreel, conflit armé, espionnage, obstiné, orchestre à cordes, film historique, solennel, tragique, cinematic, déterminé, fier, interrogatif, investigation, majestueux, narratif, panoramique, politique, clarinette (toutes), cymbalum, générique TV, rigoureux, saccadé, staccato, en attente, inquiétant, poignant, suspense, fédérateur, guerre, Europe de l'Est , acoustique, instrumental, medium, version alternative
-
-
Cathedrals of the Industrial [...]
[CEO2078 - 9] - 0
- 1'48
- Gréco Casadesus [Sacem]
- Déterminé & fédérateur. Piano, cymbalum & orchestre à corde.
- orchestre à cordes, narration historique, obstiné, documentaire d'archive, espionnage [...]
Titre : Cathedrals of the Industrial AgeRéférence : CEO2078 - 9Compositeur(s): Gréco Casadesus [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: Gares d'Europe, Les Temples du Voyage - Musique originale de Gréco CASADESUSEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem] - Yuzu Productions [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
orchestre à cordes, narration historique, obstiné, documentaire d'archive, espionnage, solennel, déterminé, newsreel, staccato, cymbalum, fier, industrie, piano acoustique, politique, rigoureux, travelling, destin, Europe de l'Est , inquiétant, panoramique, fédérateur, saccadé, acoustique, instrumental, investigation, medium, version principale
-
-
Cathedrals of the Industrial [...]
[CEO2078 - 21] - 0
- 1'46
- Gréco Casadesus [Sacem]
- Obstiné, en attente & panoramique. Orchestre à cordes & cymbalum.
- histoire contemporaine, majestueux, conflit armé, narration historique, orchestre à cordes [...]
Titre : Cathedrals of the Industrial Age Alternate 1Référence : CEO2078 - 21Compositeur(s): Gréco Casadesus [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: Gares d'Europe, Les Temples du Voyage - Musique originale de Gréco CASADESUSEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem] - Yuzu Productions [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
histoire contemporaine, majestueux, conflit armé, narration historique, orchestre à cordes, solennel, cinematic, documentaire d'archive, obstiné, politique, déterminé, interrogatif, narratif, panoramique, tragique, cymbalum, espionnage, générique TV, rigoureux, staccato, 1950, destin, en attente, fier, industrie, inquiétant, investigation, newsreel, poignant, saccadé, travelling, Europe de l'Est , acoustique, instrumental, medium, version alternative
-
-
Cathedrals of the Industrial [...]
[CEO2078 - 23] - 0
- 0'59
- Gréco Casadesus [Sacem]
- Obstiné, déterminé & solennel. Orchestre symphonique & piano.
- narration historique, documentaire d'archive, histoire contemporaine, newsreel, destin [...]
Titre : Cathedrals of the Industrial Age Alternate 3Référence : CEO2078 - 23Compositeur(s): Gréco Casadesus [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: Gares d'Europe, Les Temples du Voyage - Musique originale de Gréco CASADESUSEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem] - Yuzu Productions [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
narration historique, documentaire d'archive, histoire contemporaine, newsreel, destin, obstiné, orchestre à cordes, déterminé, film historique, solennel, espionnage, rigoureux, fier, saccadé, staccato, cymbalum, épique, fédérateur, guerrier, industrie, interrogatif, panoramique, politique, travelling, guerre, inquiétant, piano acoustique, acoustique, instrumental, investigation, rapide, version alternative
-
-
Cathedrals of the Industrial [...]
[CEO2078 - 24] - 0
- 2'23
- Gréco Casadesus [Sacem]
- Fédérateur, déterminé & panoramique. Orchestre à cordes, carillon & percussions.
- destin, orchestre à cordes, aventure, carillon d'horloge, déterminé [...]
Titre : Cathedrals of the Industrial Age Alternate 4Référence : CEO2078 - 24Compositeur(s): Gréco Casadesus [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: Gares d'Europe, Les Temples du Voyage - Musique originale de Gréco CASADESUSEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem] - Yuzu Productions [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
destin, orchestre à cordes, aventure, carillon d'horloge, déterminé, narration historique, panoramique, confiant, documentaire d'archive, fier, staccato, travelling, cymbalum, industrie, rigoureux, triomphant, animation & cartoon, cymbale, espionnage, saccadé, solennel, entraînant, exaltant, acoustique, épique, instrumental, medium, nappe, version alternative
-
-
Cathedrals of the Industrial [...]
[CEO2078 - 25] - 0
- 0'59
- Gréco Casadesus [Sacem]
- Solennel & scandé. Orchestre symphonique.
- patrimoine, orchestre à cordes, solennel, narration historique, obstiné [...]
Titre : Cathedrals of the Industrial Age Alternate 5Référence : CEO2078 - 25Compositeur(s): Gréco Casadesus [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: Gares d'Europe, Les Temples du Voyage - Musique originale de Gréco CASADESUSEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem] - Yuzu Productions [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
patrimoine, orchestre à cordes, solennel, narration historique, obstiné, destin, déterminé, docu fiction, film historique, rigoureux, scandé, fier, politique, saccadé, staccato, constant, fédérateur, industrie, travelling, underscore, musique néo classique, acoustique, instrumental, medium, version alternative
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Cathedrals of the Industrial [...]
[CEO2078 - 26] - 0
- 0'49
- Gréco Casadesus [Sacem]
- Solennel & scandé. Orchestre symphonique.
- solennel, narration historique, orchestre à cordes, obstiné, docu fiction [...]
Titre : Cathedrals of the Industrial Age Alternate 6Référence : CEO2078 - 26Compositeur(s): Gréco Casadesus [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: Gares d'Europe, Les Temples du Voyage - Musique originale de Gréco CASADESUSEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem] - Yuzu Productions [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
solennel, narration historique, orchestre à cordes, obstiné, docu fiction, film historique, patrimoine, rigoureux, scandé, staccato, destin, déterminé, fier, industrie, narratif, politique, saccadé, 18e siècle, constant, musique néo classique, cérémonie historique, acoustique, instrumental, medium, version alternative
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Peines Individuelles
[CEO2072 - 2] - 0
- 2'03
- Baptiste Thiry [Sacem]
- Dramatique, tragique & constant. Orchestre à cordes.
- narration historique, destin, orchestre à cordes, cyclique, histoire contemporaine [...]
Titre : Peines IndividuellesRéférence : CEO2072 - 2Compositeur(s): Baptiste Thiry [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: Fritz Bauer, un Procureur contre le Nazisme - Musique originale de Baptiste THIRYEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
-
-
Une Histoire Allemande
[CEO2049 - 1] - 0
- 2'13
- Lucas Napoleone [Sacem]
- Puissant & exaltant. Orchestre à cordes, programmation & percussions cinématiques.
- histoire contemporaine, narration historique, politique, aventure, exaltant [...]
Titre : Une Histoire AllemandeRéférence : CEO2049 - 1Compositeur(s): Lucas Napoleone [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: Angela Merkel, une histoire allemande - Musique originale de Lucas NAPOLEONEEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
-
-
Une Femme de Pouvoir
[CEO2049 - 2] - 0
- 2'12
- Lucas Napoleone [Sacem]
- Déterminé, sérieux & urgent. Fédérateur. Orchestre symphonique.
- histoire contemporaine, narration historique, politique, staccato, déterminé [...]
Titre : Une Femme de PouvoirRéférence : CEO2049 - 2Compositeur(s): Lucas Napoleone [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: Angela Merkel, une histoire allemande - Musique originale de Lucas NAPOLEONEEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
-
-
Premier Rôle Politique
[CEO2049 - 4] - 0
- 1'34
- Lucas Napoleone [Sacem]
- Obstiné & cyclique. Orchestre à cordes & clarinette.
- histoire contemporaine, narration historique, politique, obstiné, ascendant [...]
Titre : Premier Rôle PolitiqueRéférence : CEO2049 - 4Compositeur(s): Lucas Napoleone [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: Angela Merkel, une histoire allemande - Musique originale de Lucas NAPOLEONEEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
-
-
Klondike
[CEO2044 - 21] -
1
- 0'51
- Gréco Casadesus [Sacem]
- Déterminé & staccato. Orchestre à cordes, cors & percussions.
- narration historique, inquiétant, staccato, inexorable, conflit armé [...]
Titre : KlondikeRéférence : CEO2044 - 21Compositeur(s): Gréco Casadesus [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: Jack London - Musique originale de Gréco CASADESUSEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
-
-
Klondike Alternate Version 1
[CEO2044 - 54] - 0
- 0'50
- Gréco Casadesus [Sacem]
- Déterminé & sérieux. Ensemble de cordes staccato.
- narration historique, saccadé, staccato, obstiné, rigoureux [...]
Titre : Klondike Alternate Version 1Référence : CEO2044 - 54Compositeur(s): Gréco Casadesus [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: Jack London - Musique originale de Gréco CASADESUSEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
-
-
Political Crime
[CEZ4288 - 10] - 0
- 2'25
- Gautier Galard [Sacem], Laetitia Placido
- Suspense. Menaçant & triste. Electronics & cordes cinématiques.
- film policier, histoire contemporaine, inquiétant, narration historique, drame social [...]
Titre : Political CrimeRéférence : CEZ4288 - 10Compositeur(s): Gautier Galard [Sacem] - Laetitia PlacidoLC : 10347Album: Crime AddictsEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]ISRC : FRZPA1705240
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
film policier, histoire contemporaine, inquiétant, narration historique, drame social, inexorable, politique, programmation, investigation, suspense, cinematic, scandé, section de cordes, poursuite, progression, synthétiseur, triste, urgent, effrayant, staccato, underscore, instrumental, medium, rythmique, version principale
-
-
Rouge Garance
[CEZ4124 - 5] -
1
- 2'23
- Baptiste Thiry [Sacem]
- Progression pesante & dramatique. Orchestre à cordes.
- narration historique, orchestre à cordes, tragique, conflit armé, lyrique [...]
Titre : Rouge GaranceRéférence : CEZ4124 - 5Compositeur(s): Baptiste Thiry [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: 1914 - La Grande GuerreEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]ISRC : FRZPA1303740
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
-
-
Rouge Garance #2
[CEZ4124 - 36] - 0
- 1'55
- Baptiste Thiry [Sacem]
- Progression triste & émouvante. Orchestre à cordes.
- orchestre à cordes, narration historique, conflit armé, tragique, destin [...]
Titre : Rouge Garance #2Référence : CEZ4124 - 36Compositeur(s): Baptiste Thiry [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: 1914 - La Grande GuerreEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]ISRC : FRZPA1304050
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
-
-
Finding Shadows
[BIB140 - 5] -
2
- 1'46
- Kohshi Kamata [BMI]
- Determined, aspirational, expansive. Bright, cyclical piano is joined by determined short string chugs [...]
- narration historique, cyclique, destin, déterminé, musique répétitive [...]
Titre : Finding ShadowsRéférence : BIB140 - 5Compositeur(s): Kohshi Kamata [BMI]LC : 50141Album: Dramatic Landscapes: ClassicalEditeur(s) : Bibliotheque Music LTD [PRS]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
narration historique, cyclique, destin, déterminé, musique répétitive, urgent, convention, entraînant, exaltant, obstiné, patrimoine, rigoureux, piano acoustique, progression, confiant, fédérateur, investigation, orchestre symphonique, solaire, en attente, fougueux, industrie, crescendo, staccato, instrumental, rapide, version principale
-
-
Finding Shadows - (Underscore)
[BIB140 - 22] - 0
- 1'44
- Kohshi Kamata [BMI]
- Determined, aspirational, expansive. Determined short string chugs and mysterious, panoramic high string [...]
- narration historique, cyclique, destin, déterminé, musique répétitive [...]
Titre : Finding Shadows - (Underscore)Référence : BIB140 - 22Compositeur(s): Kohshi Kamata [BMI]LC : 50141Album: Dramatic Landscapes: ClassicalEditeur(s) : Bibliotheque Music LTD [PRS]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
narration historique, cyclique, destin, déterminé, musique répétitive, urgent, convention, entraînant, exaltant, obstiné, patrimoine, rigoureux, progression, confiant, fédérateur, investigation, orchestre symphonique, solaire, en attente, fougueux, industrie, crescendo, staccato, instrumental, rapide, version alternative
-
-
Finding Shadows - 30 sec
[BIB140 - 23] - 0
- 0'30
- Kohshi Kamata [BMI]
- Determined, aspirational, expansive. Bright, cyclical piano is joined by determined short string chugs [...]
- narration historique, cyclique, destin, déterminé, musique répétitive [...]
Titre : Finding Shadows - 30 secRéférence : BIB140 - 23Compositeur(s): Kohshi Kamata [BMI]LC : 50141Album: Dramatic Landscapes: ClassicalEditeur(s) : Bibliotheque Music LTD [PRS]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
narration historique, cyclique, destin, déterminé, musique répétitive, urgent, convention, entraînant, exaltant, obstiné, patrimoine, rigoureux, progression, confiant, fédérateur, investigation, orchestre symphonique, piano acoustique, solaire, en attente, fougueux, industrie, crescendo, staccato, 30 s, instrumental, rapide, version alternative
-
-
Reaching Higher
[CCB1044 - 1] - 0
- 1'38
- Joachim Baumerder
- Néo-classicisme, post-classical, musique minimaliste. Impulsif, déterminé & cyclique. Violons.
- déterminé, cyclique, musique répétitive, documentaire d'archive, musique néo classique [...]
Titre : Reaching HigherRéférence : CCB1044 - 1Compositeur(s): Joachim Baumerder [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: Joachim Baumerder - Contemporary String FragmentsArtiste : Joachim BaumerderEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
déterminé, cyclique, musique répétitive, documentaire d'archive, musique néo classique, narration historique, obstiné, docu fiction, pub, violon, arts, convention, exaltant, grand espace, panoramique, travelling, urgent, destin, musique minimaliste, post-classical, aérien, grinçant, acoustique, duo, instrumental, rapide, très rapide, version principale
-
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In a Fog
[CCB1044 - 15] - 0
- 1'10
- Joachim Baumerder
- Post-classical, musique minimaliste. Suspendu, désolé & pensif. Silence & grave. Violons.
- narration historique, silence, atmosphérique, désolé, post-classical [...]
Titre : In a FogRéférence : CCB1044 - 15Compositeur(s): Joachim Baumerder [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: Joachim Baumerder - Contemporary String FragmentsArtiste : Joachim BaumerderEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
narration historique, silence, atmosphérique, désolé, post-classical, dépouillé, drame social, en suspens, errant, violon, interrogatif, musique minimaliste, mystérieux, constant, destin, inquiétant, nocturne, tragique, underscore, mélancolique, sinistre, triste, acoustique, duo, instrumental, lent, version principale
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Secret History
[CEO2106 - 8] - 0
- 2'05
- Alice Guerlot-Kourouklis [Sacem]
- Sérieux, narratif, ponctué & circonspecte. Ensemble de cordes & clarinette.
- narration historique, narratif, patient, destin, en suspens [...]
Titre : Secret HistoryRéférence : CEO2106 - 8Compositeur(s): Alice Guerlot-Kourouklis [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: 26 Days to Kill de Gaulle - Musique originale de Alice Guerlot-KourouklisEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
narration historique, narratif, patient, destin, en suspens, film historique, interrogatif, calme, constant, drame social, rigoureux, timide, clarinette, émouvant, en attente, film policier, mélancolique, section de cordes, introspectif, indolent, retenu, triste, acoustique, instrumental, lent, pizzicato, version principale
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On the Wings of Beauty
[CEZ4397 - 4] - 0
- 2'18
- Thierry Caroubi [Sacem]
- Exaltant & cyclique. Orchestre à cordes, violon & bois. Progression constante.
- déterminé, narration historique, corporate, cyclique, musique néo classique [...]
Titre : On the Wings of BeautyRéférence : CEZ4397 - 4Compositeur(s): Thierry Caroubi [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: The Quality of EleganceEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
déterminé, narration historique, corporate, cyclique, musique néo classique, exaltant, orchestre à cordes, progression, time-lapse, destin, rigoureux, aérien, confiant, grand espace, mélancolique, urgent, émouvant, majestueux, obstiné, panoramique, violon, choeur de femmes, piano acoustique, en suspens, ensemble de bois, acoustique, aventure, fier, instrumental, rapide, version principale
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The Positive Aesthetic
[CEZ4397 - 6] - 0
- 2'07
- Thierry Caroubi [Sacem]
- Déterminé , passionné & cyclique. Orchestre à cordes, pizz, piano & hautbois.
- déterminé, narration historique, corporate, destin, fédérateur [...]
Titre : The Positive AestheticRéférence : CEZ4397 - 6Compositeur(s): Thierry Caroubi [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: The Quality of EleganceEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
déterminé, narration historique, corporate, destin, fédérateur, musique néo classique, passionné, catchy, orchestre à cordes, progression, cyclique, hautbois, industrie, rigoureux, staccato, urgent, classe, confiant, crescendo, obstiné, piano acoustique, pizzicato, saccadé, acoustique, instrumental, rapide, version principale
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Dieppe Rondo
[CEO2100 - 27] - 0
- 1'17
- Marc-Olivier Dupin [Sacem]
- Intimiste & précieux. Néo-classique. Piano solo.
- destin, narration historique, drame social, introspectif, musique de chambre [...]
Titre : Dieppe RondoRéférence : CEO2100 - 27Compositeur(s): Marc-Olivier Dupin [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: 100 Original ScoresEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
destin, narration historique, drame social, introspectif, musique de chambre, intimiste, mélancolique, piano acoustique, délicat, émouvant, raffiné, sentimental, triste, arts, musique baroque (1600-1750), solennel, solo, 19e siècle, calme, errant, 18e siècle, acoustique, enfance, instrumental, lent, simple, version principale
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Dans les Rues de Grenoble
[CEO2100 - 29] - 0
- 3'15
- Baptiste Charvet [Sacem]
- Triste & poignant. Quintette à cordes.
- drame psychologique, drame social, poignant, post-classical, destin [...]
Titre : Dans les Rues de GrenobleRéférence : CEO2100 - 29Compositeur(s): Baptiste Charvet [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: 100 Original ScoresEditeur(s) : Cocottesminute [Sacem] - Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
drame psychologique, drame social, poignant, post-classical, destin, narration historique, quintette à cordes, tragique, triste, émouvant, inexorable, obstiné, ondoyant, téléfilm français, 19e siècle, cyclique, errant, progression, tourmenté, 1940, final, acoustique, campagne & jardin, insidieux, instrumental, medium, version principale
-
-
A Winner's Goal
[CET9011 - 11] -
2
- 2'22
- Philippe Briand [Sacem], Gabriel Saban [Sacem]
- Determined & tense staccato string intro in a classical mood. Epic, serious in a never-say-die attitude.
- aventure, fougueux, narration historique, destin, déterminé [...]
Titre : A Winner's GoalRéférence : CET9011 - 11Compositeur(s): Philippe Briand [Sacem] - Gabriel Saban [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: SolarisEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
aventure, fougueux, narration historique, destin, déterminé, histoire contemporaine, cinematic, docu fiction, épique, jeu d'aventure, orchestre cinematic, trailer, corporate, guerrier, obstiné, percussion cinematique, poursuite, puissant & imposant, urgent, conflit armé, en attente, fier, générique TV, inexorable, politique, rigoureux, scandé, final, inquiétant, lumineux, percutant, progression, saccadé, appuyé, climax, electronics, exaltant, lourd, staccato, crescendo, explosif, introduction, soudain, suspense, breaking news, instrumental, rapide, version principale
-
-
A Winner's Goal Alternate
[CET9011 - 25] - 0
- 2'22
- Philippe Briand [Sacem], Gabriel Saban [Sacem]
- Alternate without percussion. Determined & tense staccato string intro in a classical mood. Epic, [...]
- fougueux, narration historique, aventure, destin, déterminé [...]
Titre : A Winner's Goal AlternateRéférence : CET9011 - 25Compositeur(s): Philippe Briand [Sacem] - Gabriel Saban [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: SolarisEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
fougueux, narration historique, aventure, destin, déterminé, histoire contemporaine, cinematic, docu fiction, épique, jeu d'aventure, orchestre cinematic, trailer, corporate, guerrier, obstiné, poursuite, puissant & imposant, urgent, conflit armé, en attente, fier, générique TV, inexorable, politique, rigoureux, scandé, final, inquiétant, jeu d'action, lumineux, percutant, progression, saccadé, appuyé, climax, electronics, exaltant, lourd, staccato, crescendo, explosif, introduction, soudain, suspense, breaking news, instrumental, rapide, version alternative
-
-
A Winner's Goal Alternate 2
[CET9011 - 26] - 0
- 2'22
- Philippe Briand [Sacem], Gabriel Saban [Sacem]
- Alternate without percussion & electronics. Determined & tense staccato string intro in a classical [...]
- fougueux, narration historique, aventure, destin, déterminé [...]
Titre : A Winner's Goal Alternate 2Référence : CET9011 - 26Compositeur(s): Philippe Briand [Sacem] - Gabriel Saban [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: SolarisEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
fougueux, narration historique, aventure, destin, déterminé, histoire contemporaine, cinematic, docu fiction, épique, jeu d'aventure, orchestre cinematic, trailer, corporate, guerrier, obstiné, percussion cinematique, poursuite, puissant & imposant, urgent, conflit armé, en attente, fier, générique TV, inexorable, politique, rigoureux, scandé, final, inquiétant, jeu d'action, lumineux, percutant, progression, saccadé, appuyé, climax, electronics, exaltant, lourd, staccato, crescendo, explosif, introduction, soudain, suspense, breaking news, instrumental, rapide, version alternative
-
-
La Rencontre de Deux Grands [...]
[CEO2091 - 1] - 0
- 1'09
- Gréco Casadesus [Sacem]
- Urgent & fougueux. Orchestre, violon solo & célesta.
- inexorable, narration historique, orchestre symphonique, film historique, obstiné [...]
Titre : La Rencontre de Deux Grands HommesRéférence : CEO2091 - 1Compositeur(s): Gréco Casadesus [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: André Malraux, L'Épreuve du Pouvoir - Musique originale de Greco CASADESUSEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem] - OPUS MILESIME
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
inexorable, narration historique, orchestre symphonique, film historique, obstiné, politique, violon, aventure, fougueux, musique du XX ème siècle, staccato, urgent, destin, inquiétant, tragique, final, tourmenté, fier, saccadé, panoramique, acoustique, conflit armé, instrumental, rapide, trompette bouchée, version principale
-
-
Milano Centrale
[CEO2078 - 6] -
1
- 2'10
- Gréco Casadesus [Sacem]
- Martial, solennel & tragique. Clarinette & orchestre symphonique.
- destin, documentaire d'archive, narration historique, inexorable, newsreel [...]
Titre : Milano CentraleRéférence : CEO2078 - 6Compositeur(s): Gréco Casadesus [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: Gares d'Europe, Les Temples du Voyage - Musique originale de Gréco CASADESUSEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem] - Yuzu Productions [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
destin, documentaire d'archive, narration historique, inexorable, newsreel, épique, guerrier, orchestre symphonique, solennel, film historique, obstiné, panoramique, politique, aventure, clarinette (toutes), déterminé, espionnage, guerre, interrogatif, puissant & imposant, rigoureux, scandé, staccato, temps (tic-tac), tragique, cor, fier, 1940, inquiétant, travelling, investigation, acoustique, instrumental, rapide, urgent, version principale
-
-
Milano Centrale Alternate
[CEO2078 - 20] - 0
- 2'11
- Gréco Casadesus [Sacem]
- Puissant, solennel & tendu. Orchestre symphonique & cors.
- narration historique, documentaire d'archive, orchestre symphonique, puissant & imposant, aventure [...]
Titre : Milano Centrale AlternateRéférence : CEO2078 - 20Compositeur(s): Gréco Casadesus [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: Gares d'Europe, Les Temples du Voyage - Musique originale de Gréco CASADESUSEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem] - Yuzu Productions [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
narration historique, documentaire d'archive, orchestre symphonique, puissant & imposant, aventure, cor, destin, inexorable, newsreel, obstiné, panoramique, politique, solennel, déterminé, épique, rigoureux, scandé, staccato, temps (tic-tac), tragique, espionnage, fier, guerre, guerrier, investigation, travelling, 1940, inquiétant, fédérateur, interrogatif, acoustique, instrumental, medium, rapide, urgent, version alternative
-
-
Obtenir Justice
[CEO2072 - 3] - 0
- 2'14
- Baptiste Thiry [Sacem]
- Dramatique, ponctué & inexorable. Orchestre à cordes.
- narration historique, atmosphérique, destin, histoire contemporaine, inexorable [...]
Titre : Obtenir JusticeRéférence : CEO2072 - 3Compositeur(s): Baptiste Thiry [Sacem]LC : 10347Album: Fritz Bauer, un Procureur contre le Nazisme - Musique originale de Baptiste THIRYEditeur(s) : Frederic Leibovitz Editeur [Sacem]
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé,
On va r'prendre les tranchées,
Notre place est si utile
Que sans nous on prend la pile.
Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez,
Personn' ne veut plus marcher,
Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot
On dit adieu aux civ'lots.
Même sans tambour, même sans trompette,
On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête.
Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour,
Adieu toutes les femmes.
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours,
De cette guerre infâme.
C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau,
Qu'on doit laisser sa peau
Car nous sommes tous condamnés
Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance,
Pourtant on a l'espérance
Que ce soir viendra la r'lève
Que nous attendons sans trêve.
Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence,
On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance,
C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied,
Qui vient pour nous remplacer.
Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe
Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.English translation :
Craonne Song
When at the end of a week's leave
We go back to the trenches,
Our place there is so useful
That without us we'd get a thrashing.
But now it’s finished we've had enough
Nobody wants to march anymore.
And with hearts downcast with sobs,
We're saying good-bye to the civilians,
Even without drum or trumpet
We're heading up there with lowered heads.
Good-bye to life, good-bye to love,
Good-bye to all you women,
It's finished, and forever
we've had it for good with this awful war.
It's in Craonne up on the plateau
That we're leaving our skins,
'Cause we've all been sentenced to die.
We're the ones that they're sacrificing
A week in the trenches, a week of suffering,
And yet we still have hope
That tonight the relief will come
That we keep waiting for.
Suddenly in the silent night
We hear someone approach
It's an infantry officer
Who's coming to take over from us.
Quietly in the shadows as the rain falls
The poor soldiers go in search of their graves
Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back
'Cause it's for them that we're dying.
Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers
Are going to go on strike.
It'll be your turn, fat cats,
To go up onto the plateau.
And if you want war,
Then pay for it with your own skins.
On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch
All the fat cats whooping it up
For them life is good
But for us it's not the same
Instead of hiding, all these shirkers
Would do better by going up to the trenches
To defend what they have, because we have nothing
All of us poor wretches
All our comrades are buried there
Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
