Edith Piaf's voice has echoed through decades, reaching hearts across generations and borders. For me, her songs are more than music - they are memory, emotion, and a mirror to life's joys and sorrows. This reflection is both a tribute to Piaf and a personal journey through the moments her music has marked in my life.

A remarkable voice which reaches us after so many years, Piaf had a distinct presence, a distinct personality. Maybe the world is still struggling to understand how an inexperienced singer with a tiny weak body, clad in black, could achieve such power to speak the lines of tragedy as she did. Tragedy struck the heart of Edith Piaf at every moment of her life, from her birth in the street of a Paris slum... Human tragedy is the very core and essence of Piaf's art. Hers is the task of interpreting the human situation, and is therefore, not always able to paint a rosy-coloured picture.

Piaf's world is of the streets, of men and women, who are as they are because they are human beings - complex patterns of good and evil, will and no will. They live and love sometimes for life, sometimes for money, and sometimes because they can find no other alternative.

Her art has spread beyond the confines of Belleville and even France itself. Piaf's humanity belongs to the world; she has given to the world as the world now gives to her. Born in a gutter and survived to become a legend, Piaf's story is a poignant mixture of comedy and tragedy. When she died in 1963, 40 thousand mourning Parisians followed her coffin to its final resting place. She captured the flavour of French life in her songs with an appeal that was international... and eternal it seems.

Even behind the bright lights of success, there stalked black spectres of illness, drink and drugs, yet she could still sing: Non, je ne regrette rien.

I have dozens of vinyl records and CDs of Piaf. My brother once surprised me with a whole set from Paris which I love. Many I bought myself. I still treasure the vinyl ones - some belonging to my husband, bought when we were students in London. Others I found at Brizzi of Kingsway or d'Amato, who is thankfully still around when so many like Nani and Brizzi are gone. It must have been my husband who introduced me to Piaf all those years ago when we met as scholarship holders to study librarianship in London. When I see his writing, so ubiquitous, so loved, I cry secretly.

I have two books about Piaf I particularly treasure. One was given to me by Raphael Vassallo when we worked in the same department at The Malta Independent. He had very thoughtfully bought it on a visit to France and the dedication reads: "To Marie, all the way from St Tropez, Raphael."

The other was from my then boyfriend, whom I was destined to eventually marry - my darling Gaëtan. In his neat handwriting, which was to become so familiar, he wrote: "To Marie, dearest, with love Gaëtan. Autumn 1973, London." Fourteen years later he was dead and gone, all part of the rich tapestry which makes up our lives, the sad parts of which we want to be without. (I hope I will not return.)

This is a long preamble to tell you a little about a lunchtime concert which took place around two weeks ago.

The programme included: La Foule, Sous le ciel de Paris, Mon Dieu, Padam Padam, L'accordéoniste, Les Feuilles Mortes, Mon Ménage à moi, L'hymne à l'amour, La Vie en rose, Non, je ne regrette rien.

Here are just a few comments about the chansons I like best:

• La Foule: Originally a Spanish waltz; a woman swept into the arms of a stranger at a street festival, only to lose him again in the crowd. It symbolizes the fleeting nature of joy and love, carried away by the unstoppable tide of life.
• Mon Dieu: One of my favourites. Written by Charles Dumont and Michel Vaucaire, it's a desperate prayer to God to grant more time with her beloved. Piaf repeats "Mon Dieu" as a plea against the brevity of love. How many of us would not join her in this plea? I, for one.
• L'accordéoniste: Written by Michel Emer, Piaf's first million-seller. Yuri was in his element here.
• Les Feuilles Mortes: Lyrics by Jacques Prévert, music by Joseph Kosma. Dead leaves as a metaphor for lost love and fading memories. Piaf's voice makes it a meditation on nostalgia and inevitability.
•  I love Yves Montand's version too and Nat King Cole's.
• La Vie en rose: Piaf's signature song, written during WWII. Seeing life "in pink" when embraced by love became an anthem of hope and tenderness after the war.
• Non, je ne regrette rien: Music by Charles Dumont, lyrics by Michel Vaucaire. This is total acceptance - no regrets for past joys or sorrows, only readiness for new love. Piaf dedicated it to the French Foreign Legion; it became a universal anthem of resilience.

Together, these songs form a portrait of Piaf's life and artistry: love in all its forms - joyful, tragic, fleeting, eternal. Paris is her muse and backdrop. We have to be resilient in the face of suffering. I believe this to be her final message.

My eldest, some years ago, arranged for us both a trip to Paris - a trip I shall never forget. One of the delights of that long weekend was a concert in a basement for no more than 40 of us, by a French singer singing Piaf. It was not Piaf, and the singer - whose name I forget - didn't try to imitate her. It was most enjoyable and intimate. Every single person who attended was a lover, an admirer of Piaf. Thank you Camille. Always so thoughtful.

The concert at Our Lady of Victory, a Barocco Foundation fund raising event in collaboration with din-L'Art Helwa was emotionally satisfying. It brought back happy memories. Yuri and Claire are great entertainers who put their heart into every note.

We must not forget the composers and lyricists of these chansons. I know so little about them but am aware that without their music and words, there would be no moving chansons.

I hope there will be a follow-up to this concert. I have a programme, two or three if you like, which I can pass on of other Piaf songs which could be sung: Heureuse, Qu'il était triste cet Anglais, Les mots d'amour, Faites-moi danser la dernière valse... and many more.

Piaf's voice continues to accompany me through life's seasons - through love, loss, memory, and resilience. Her songs are not just echoes of the past; they are companions in the present. And in every note, I find a part of myself.

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