This is a popular 1914 cheery march song by Louis Bousquet and Camille Robert.
This version is sung by Les Partisans
Most songs for the military at the time were bawdy and rude. Madelon, although often used as a drinking song, is a sweet one. The song was also seen as a light and entertaining alternative to the harsh patriotic music, often seen as propaganda by soldiers and civilians.
The song tells the story of French soldiers flirting with a young and pretty waitress in a country inn. The soldiers think of Madelon night and day as they represent their sweethearts left at home. Madelon takes it all with a smile and as harmless fun.
A corporal comes to ask Madelon for her hand, but Madelon turns him down. Being the sweetheart of the whole regiment, Madelon “needs her hand free” to serve wine to all the soldiers.
During the war, the song was popular with the French Soldiers (Les poilus) as well as Spanish soldiers.
After the war, the song became a patriotic chant. And Marlene Dietrich revived the song during WWII. And it has since been covered by many French artists.
Pour le repos, le plaisir des militaires
Il est là-bas à deux pas de la forêt
Une maison aux murs tout couverts de lierre
“Aux tourlouroux”, c’est le nom du cabaret
La servante est jeune et gentille
Légère comme un papillon
Comme son vin, son œil pétille
Nous l’appelons la Madelon
Nous en rêvons la nuit,
Nous y pensons le jour
Ce n’est que Madelon, mais pour nous c’est l’amour.
Quand Madelon vient nous servir à boire
Sous la tonnelle, on frôle son jupon
Et chacun lui raconte une histoire
Une histoire à sa façon
La Madelon pour nous n’est pas sévère
Quand on lui prend
la taille ou le menton
Elle rit, c’est tout le mal
qu’elle sait faire
Madelon, Madelon, Madelon !
Un caporal, en képi de fantaisie
S’en fut trouver Madelon un beau matin
Et, fou d’amour, lui dit
qu’elle était jolie
Et qu’il venait pour lui demander sa main
La Madelon, pas bête en somme,
Lui répondit en souriant :
– Et pourquoi prendrais-je un seul homme
Quand j’aime tout un régiment ?
Tes amis vont venir,
tu n’auras pas ma main
J’en ai bien trop besoin pour leur verser du vin !
Quand Madelon vient nous servir à boire
Sous la tonnelle, on frôle son jupon
Et chacun lui raconte une histoire
Une histoire à sa façon
La Madelon pour nous n’est pas sévère
Quand on lui prend
la taille ou le menton
Elle rit, c’est tout le mal
qu’elle sait faire
Madelon, Madelon, Madelon !
Quand Madelon vient nous servir à boire
Sous la tonnelle, on frôle son jupon
Et chacun lui raconte une histoire
Une histoire à sa façon
La Madelon pour nous n’est pas sévère
Quand on lui prend
la taille ou le menton
Elle rit, c’est tout le mal
qu’elle sait faire
Madelon, Madelon, Madelon !
For the rest, and the pleasure of soldiers,
just a stone’s throw from the forest,
You’ll find a house
covered in ivy.
At Tourlouro is the name of that Inn.
The maid is young and sweet.
light as a butterfly
her eyes sparkle as much as her wine
We call her Madelon.
We dream about her at night,
We think about her during the day
She’s only Madelon,
But for us, she is love.
When Madelon comes to serve us a drink,
We brush against her petticoat under the pergola
and each of us tells her a story,
a story in our own ways.
Madelon is not stern with us
When we put our arm around her waist or stroke her chin
She laughs it off; that’s all the harm she can do.
Madelon (x3)
A corporal in a fancy peaked hat,
went to see Madelon on a fine morning
and madly in love with her, told her she was pretty
and that he came to ask
her hand.
Madelon, who is no fool,
replied with a smile,
And why would I take just one man?
When I love a whole battalion.
Your friends will arrive;
And you won’t have my hand
as I need it
to pour their wine
when Madelon comes to serve us a drink
we brush against her petticoat under the pergola
and each on of us tells her a story
a story in our own ways
Madelon is not stern with us
When we put our arm around
her waist or stroke her chin
she laughs, that’s all the harm
she can do
Madelon (x3)
When Madelon comes to serve us a drink,
we brush against her petticoat under the pergola
and each of us tells her a story,
a story in our own ways.
Madelon is not stern with us
When we put our arm
around her waist or stroke her chin
she laughs, that’s all the harm she can do.
Madelons (x3)
Between the French lyrics 
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