Vent Frais, Vent Du Matin

Remembering from the piece I just posted ending with the Old Abram Brown children's choir song, that I used to sing in a choir at the French school when I was a kid. I remember hearing them perform before I took part when I was 6 or 7, and I was chilled by the sound they made, and thought "I want to make that sound". So I joined. We had an amazing teacher who gave us these beautiful, haunting songs like Old Abram Brown, which never struck me as strange or creepy at the time (and not now either but some people seem to think so), but just, chillingly beautiful. When I heard it in Moonrise Kingdom, a film that struck me from the first time so close to my heart and always, always will, I remembered that time from my childhood, and that I did that. I even won an award for my singing. Kind of sad I guess because now I never sing except to myself in the shower, I chant sometimes when I'm lonely but the only things I ever seen to remember are a few yoga chants and the lyrics to "I'm Not An Addict" by K's Choice (of all the songs I listen to over and over and over I wonder why that one is the one I always remember). Here is another one we used to sing, though it's not my favorite version I could find; we never had the stupid bells and crappy jazz drums with it:

But I loved being able to join in with other voices and make this sound; I often had solos.

Here are the lyrics, and for extra fun, what I found when I was searching for them - French instructions

• Demandez à votre enfant de découper et coller la chanson "Vent frais"dans son cahier de chants et de l'illustrer.
• L'illustration du texte, permet de vérifier la bonne compréhension du texte, oral pour les plus jeunes et écrit pour ceux qui savent lire.

"Vent frais

Vent frais, vent du matin,

Vent qui souffle au sommet des grands pins,

Joie du vent qui souffle, allons dans le grand

Vent frais ..."

I remember so enjoying what felt like darkness in this song. The mental image of running headlong into the great wind blowing through pine trees. Feeling the joy of that wind, being one with it with the power of the music we made with our own vocal cords and our memoies of the notes and the words and nothing else.