Lyrics of Le modeste - Georges Brassens

Le modeste (original)

Les pays, c’est pas ça qui manque
On vient au monde à Salamanque
A Paris, Bordeaux, Lille, Brest (e)
Lui, la nativité le prit
Du côté des Saintes-Maries
C’est un modeste
Comme jadis a fait un roi
Il serait bien fichu, je crois
De donner le trône et le reste
Contre un seul cheval camarguais
Bancal, vieux, borgne, fatigué
C’est un modeste
Suivi de son pin parasol
S’il fuit sans mêm' toucher le sol
Le moindre effort comme la peste
C’est qu’au chantier ses bras d’Hercule
Rendraient les autres ridicules
C’est un modeste
A la pétanque, quand il perd
Te fais pas de souci, pépère
Si d’aventure il te conteste
S’il te boude, s’il te rudoie
Au fond, il est content pour toi
C’est un modeste
Si, quand un emmerdeur le met
En rogne, on ne le voit jamais
Lever sur l’homme une main leste
C’est qu’il juge pas nécessaire
D’humilier un adversaire
C’est un modeste
Et quand il tombe amoureux fou
Y a pas de danger qu’il l’avoue
Les effusions, dame, il déteste
Selon lui, mettre en plein soleil
Son cœur ou son cul c’est pareil
C’est un modeste
Quand on enterre un imbécile
De ses amis, s’il raille, s’il
A l'œil sec et ne manifeste
Aucun chagrin, t’y fie pas trop:
Sur la patate, il en a gros
C’est un modeste
Et s’il te traite d'étranger
Que tu sois de Naples, d’Angers
Ou d’ailleurs, remets pas la veste
Lui, quand il t’adopte, pardi!
Il veut pas que ce soit le dit
C’est un modeste
Si tu n’as pas tout du grimaud
Si tu sais lire entre les mots
Entre les faits, entre les gestes
Lors, tu verras clair dans son jeu
Et que ce bel avantageux
C’est un modeste

(translation)

Countries, that's not what's missing
We are born in Salamanca
In Paris, Bordeaux, Lille, Brest (e)
Him, the nativity took him
On the side of Saintes-Maries
It's a modest
As a king once did
He would be fine, I believe
To give the throne and the rest
Against a single Camargue horse
Wobbly, old, one-eyed, tired
It's a modest
Tracking his Umbrella Pine
If it leaks without even hitting the ground
Least effort like the plague
It is that at the construction site his arms of Hercules
Would make others look ridiculous
It's a modest
In pétanque, when he loses
Don't worry, grandpa
If by chance he challenges you
If he sulks you, if he bullies you
Deep down he's happy for you
It's a modest
If when a pain in the ass puts it on
Pissed off, we never see him
Raise a nimble hand to the man
It's because he doesn't think it's necessary
To humiliate an opponent
It's a modest
And when he falls madly in love
There's no danger of him admitting it
The outpourings, lady, he hates
According to him, putting in direct sunlight
His heart or his ass it's the same
It's a modest
When you bury a fool
Of his friends, if he scoffs, if he
Dry-eyed and not manifest
No sorrow, don't trust it too much:
On the potato, it's big
It's a modest
And if he calls you a stranger
Whether you're from Naples, Angers
Or for that matter, don't put the jacket back on
Him, when he adopts you, of course!
He don't want it said
It's a modest
If you don't have any grimaud
If you can read between the words
Between the facts, between the gestures
Then you'll see through his game
And that this beautiful advantageous
It's a modest