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The meaning of the lyrics of the song "La Rupture" by the artist "Yann Tiersen"

Contents

In the song "La Rupture" ("The Break"), Yann Tiersen paints a picture of profound emotional emptiness and alienation, most likely caused by the breakdown of a relationship.

The first stanza lists mundane household items: "Windows, doors, walls and carpets... bread, wine, butter and jam...". This unemotional enumeration creates a sense of monotony and colorlessness, emphasizing the loss of zest for life: "I've lost the taste for these things for two weeks now." The lyrical hero, as if submerged in apathy, passively awaits change, symbolized by a "cup of dirty snow". Snow here is a metaphor for coldness, insensitivity, but perhaps also for cleansing.

The second stanza takes us to an urban environment. The dynamic images of "airports, railway stations, roads" contrast with the state of the hero, who "wanders blindly," unable to find his way. The "towers of dirty snow" can be interpreted as obstacles, an isolation that he has created for himself.

The third stanza further reinforces the feeling of alienation. People's bodies are described fragmentarily, impersonally: "Faces, ears and bellies...". Holidays and fun ("parties, someone messed up") seem distant and alien. The hero withdraws from sensory experiences, seeking refuge in his "snow country."

The concluding lines "Now I am calm in this snow... I hold on until I am old..." sound ambiguous. On the one hand, it is an acceptance of his condition, a finding of fragile peace in detachment. On the other hand, the words "I hold on" reveal a hope that time may heal his wounds. The "dirty snow" will melt, opening the way to something new.

Windows, doors, walls and carpets, chairs

Tables and flowers, bread, wine,

Butter and jam, fries, meat, beans and all spices.

I've lost the taste of these things for two weeks now.

I'm just waiting for a cup of dirty snow.

Airports, railroad stations, highways, streets and foggy lines.

Traffic lights, cars and planes, boats, bicycles and walkers.

Now I'm wandering, blind, in the city.

I'm surrounded by towers, made of dirty snow.

Faces, ears and bellies, backsides, legs, fingers and feet.

Sweat, tears, dripping bodies, parties, someone is fucked up.

Now I'm quiet in this snow, snowy country.

I'm hanging on until I am old, just older than now.

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