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“(ESCALE) Ports O’ Call &  (Musée Édith Piaf)  Museum of Edith Piaf Intro.”

26 May

Image: etsy.com

INTRO Musée Édith Piaf:

Established 1977

Location 5, rue Crespin du Gast, 75011 Paris

Coordinates 48.86617°N 2.38172°E

Type Private memorabilia collection

Visitors free, by appointment only

Director Friends of Édith Piaf Association

Curator Bernard Marchois

Public transit access Ménilmontant
The Musée Édith Piaf is a private museum dedicated to singer Édith Piaf located in the 11th arrondissement at 5, rue Crespin du Gast, Paris, France. It is open by appointment; admission is free.[1]

The museum was created by Bernard Marchois, author of two Piaf biographies, and occupies two rooms within a private apartment. It contains memorabilia including her china collection, gold and platinum records, dress and shoes, photographs, fan letters, sheet music, posters, and recordings.
en.m.Wikipedia.org

Lyrics Ports O’ Call (ESCALE)

The sky is blue, the sea is green.

Open the window a little bit.

The tide, rolling on the horizon

Makes me think of a boy

Who believed in neither God nor the devil.

I met him north of here

One evening, in a port of call,

At an abominable dance hall.

The air smelled of sweat and alcohol.

He wasn’t wearing a detachable collar

But rather, a dubious-looking silk scarf.

And when I entered, he was all I saw.

And my heart was dazzled

By joy.

The sky is blue, the sea is green.

Open the window a little bit.

He took my hand, without a word.

He led me out of the bar.

Just a simple gesture,

It wasn’t complicated.

He was staying at the quayside,

I didn’t try to understand.

His room overlooked the port,

Drunken sailors were singing outside.

A gas lamp, a pale halo

Illuminated the sad little place.

He crushed me against him:

“I love you.”

The sky is blue, the sea is green.

Open the window a little bit.

His kiss still burns me.

Is that what they call love?

His ship was anchored in the harbour

Chasing shadows in the night.

At daybreak, he fled,

To rejoin his friends,

I saw him come up on deck.

And if I don’t know his name,

I know the name of the ship,

A ship that’s been lost.

As for the sea, I no longer dare

to say anything.

The sky is silent, the sea is grey.

Close the window against the breeze.

 
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Posted by on May 26, 2017 in FRENCH FRIDAYS, music

 

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