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Wreck Autumn Leaves 1181

Wreck Autumn Leaves 1181

Wreck Autumn Leaves 1181

About the show

Playing tracks by

Laura Weinbach, Mouloudji, Fools des Feuilles, Ethel Azama, Miles Davis and more.

Chart positions

This upload was 29th in the Pop chart and 74th in the Jazz chart .

Wreck Autumn Leaves 1181 ~ Wreck This Mess ~ Amsterdam ~ 07.12.14: Autumn Leaves (Les feuilles mortes) is an enchanting Joseph Kosma melody, brilliant Jacques Prévert lyrics, fantastically translated [very differently] into English by Johnny Mercer. So captivating that there are no fewer than 1400 versions. A perfect match of melody & lyrics that timelessly evokes how Autumn can kindle up images of melancholy, regret, time passing, aging. Vaucaire recorded it 1st in 1948. Altho Montand sang it in 1946 in Marcel Carné’s Les Portes de la nuit after Marlene Dietrich refused. Cole sang it in UK, FR & JP. Piaf was maybe the 1st to perform it in Eng & Fr in the same song. In 1961, Gainsbourg paid tribute to hero Prévert in his "La Chanson de Prévert". I couldn’t find 60s Manfred Mann version but DID find some strange versions. It is closely associated with jazz; there are several hundred jazz versions. BUY artists' versions... P. Baudoin:


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Thelma Blitz
Thelma Blitz

One never tires of hearing the different versions of this lovely song , now an international standard. I listened to the whole thing without pause and it was over too soon. Thanks, Bart, for assembling it. Dead leaves, dead loves... but how the English lyric misses the inevitability and finality of break-up. "I miss you most of all my darling when Autumn Leaves start to fall" doesn't get near " And the sea washes away over the sand the footsteps of separated lovers." Manfred Mann's version is here:

III. The Seasons
Autumn: A Dirge
Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792–1822)

THE WARM sun is failing, the bleak wind is wailing,
The bare boughs are sighing, the pale flowers are dying,
And the year
On the earth her deathbed, in a shroud of leaves dead,
Is lying. 5
Come, months, come away,
From November to May,
In your saddest array;
Follow the bier
Of the dead cold year, 10
And like dim shadows watch by her sepulchre.

The chill rain is falling, the nipt worm is crawling,
The rivers are swelling, the thunder is knelling
For the year;
The blithe swallows are flown, and the lizards each gone 15
To his dwelling;
Come, months, come away,
Put on white, black, and gray;
Let your light sisters play—
Ye, follow the bier 20
Of the dead cold year,
And make her grave green with tear on tear.
Les sanglots longs The long sobs
Des violons Of the violins
De l’automne Of Autumn
Blessent mon cœur Wound my heart
D’une langueur With a monotonous
Monotone. Languor.

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This is lovely - absolutely well worth doing.

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