“It would be inexact to say that you caused poetry to descend into the streets, for your prodigy is that your songs grow there as if the pavement were grass in April (…) This record is made of a gold of which you will forever remain the young and mysterious alchemist. On this day of Saint Charles, I hand it to you and embrace you.” Jean COCTEAU (giving a gold record to Charles Trenet on November 6th 1955)