"J'attends un navire", also known as "I Am Waiting for a Ship", is a song written in 1934 by Kurt Weill with lyrics by Jacques Deval. The song was written for the musical Marie Galante [fr] but later became an unofficial anthem of the French Resistance.[1]
Background
The song was one of a number of musical numbers prepared by Weill for the stage adaptation of Deval's bestselling novel Marie Galante, about a French prostitute who becomes stranded in Panama and must work as a spy to earn enough money to return to France. Weill entered into the project enthusiastically, since he needed the work as a recent refugee from Nazi Germany, but the collaboration with Deval was contentious, with the two barely communicating.[2] Nevertheless, after a year of writing, the play premiered at the Théâtre de Paris on 22 December 1934. Poorly received by audiences and critics, the play ran only three weeks, but the song took on a life of its own through sheet music sales and a popular recording by the show's star Florelle.[3][4]
Musically, the song is part of the genre of chanson réaliste, a style of cabaret song written from the point of view of working class or otherwise abject women, popular in the first part of the 20th century in France. The lyrics are sung from the point-of-view of Marie, a prostitute, who is selling herself on the streets for two dollars ("Beautiful girl!/Beautiful French girl/Two dollars!/You will be pleased"). The singer goes on to say she is not waiting for a man, but for a ship to carry her away from her current life ("It is not you I'm waiting for./I wait for a ship/which will come and to drive it, this ship has the wind of my heart which sighs/the water of my tears will carry it").
Lyrics
Beautiful girl! Bella Francesa!
Deux dollars!
Tu seras content.
Entre chez moi! Mets-toi à l'aise!
Prends-moi, paye-moi
Et va-t'en!
Pars, ce n'est pas toi que j'attends.
J'attends un navire qui viendra
Et pour le conduire, ce navire a
Le vent de mon coeur qui soupire
L'eau de mes pleurs le portera
Et si la mer veut le détruire
Ce navire qui viendra
Je le porterai, ce navire
Jusqu'à Bordeaux entre mes bras!
Là-bas on m'appelait Marie
Et les garçons au coin des champs
Me chatouillaient pour que je rie
Et que je cède en me battant.
Mais toi pour qui je suis "Chérie"
Prends-moi, paye-moi
Et va-t'en!
J'attends un navire qui viendra
Et pour le conduire, ce navire a
Le vent de mon coeur qui soupire
L'eau de mes pleurs le portera
Et si la mer veut le détruire
Ce navire...
Beautiful girl! Beautiful French girl...
Two dollars!
You will be pleased.
Come into my place. Make yourself comfortable!
Take me! Pay me!
And go away. Leave!
It is not you I'm waiting for.
I wait for a ship which will come
and to drive it, this ship has
the wind of my heart which sighs
the water of my tears will carry it;
and if the sea wants to destroy it,
this ship that will come,
I will carry it, this ship,
all the way to Bordeaux in my arms!
There they used to call me Marie
and the boys, in the corner of the fields
would tickle me to make me laugh
and make me yield while fighting me.
But you for whom I am "Darling"
Take me, pay me
and go away.
I wait for a ship which will come
and to drive it, this ship has
the wind of my heart which sighs
the water of my tears will carry it;
and if the sea wants to destroy it,
this ship ...
^"Pensacola Wham". The New Yorker. June 10, 1944. pp. 14–15. Weill, a small, gentle man of forty-four who wears thick-lensed glasses and has only a fringe of hair remaining, is not especially elated by his coincidental popularity. 'Too many times there has not been anything of mine showing, even on Third Avenue', he told us when we called on him last week. He is elated, however, by the news that an old song of his, one he wrote back in 1934 for a French musical play called Marie Galante, has been adopted by the French underground. It is called 'J'attends un navire'—'I Am Waiting for a Ship'—and in the play was sung by a lonely prostitute, marooned in Panama, who longed to get back to Bordeaux (ah, the French drama!). As sung these days in the cafés of Paris, it connotes invasion barges.
^Mucci, John; Felnagle, Richard (1999). "Marie Galante: Still Waiting. . ". Retrieved March 1, 2019. Weill welcomed the contribution to his scanty income, but the relationship between the collaborators was anything but cordial. On 6 April 1934, he wrote to Lenya that 'Deval is causing major headaches. He is absolutely the worst literary schwein I've ever met, and that's saying a lot. [... H]e said he could concentrate on Marie Galante 100%. So I call him today, and he says he is taking off in two weeks—for Hollywood! In other words, he has no intention of writing the play.' It is evident that Deval's heart was not in the work, and the play he wrote is not up to his usual witty and incisive style—a real pity, when one considers the talent that was at work on the project.
