The end
Language: English after the Bangla (Bengali)
It is time for me to go, mother; I am going.
When in the paling darkness of the lonely dawn
you stretch out your arms for your baby in the bed,
I shall say, "Baby is not there!"--mother, I am going.
I shall become a delicate draught of air and caress you;
and I shall be ripples in the water when you bathe,
and kiss you and kiss you again.
In the gusty night when the rain patters on the leaves
you will hear my whisper in your bed,
and my laughter will flash
with the lightning through the open window
into your room.
If you lie awake, thinking of your baby
till late into the night,
I shall sing to you from the stars,
"Sleep mother, sleep."
On the straying moonbeams I shall steal over your bed,
and lie upon your bosom while you sleep.
I shall become a dream, and through the little opening of your eyelids
I shall slip into the depths of your sleep;
and when you wake up and look round startled,
like a twinkling firefly I shall flit out into the darkness.
When, on the great festival of puja,
the neighbours' children come
and play about the house,
I shall melt into the music of the flute
and throb in your heart all day.
Dear auntie will come with puja-presents
and will ask,
"Where is our baby, sister?"
Mother, you will tell her softly,
"He is in the pupils of my eyes,
he is in my body and in my soul."
Translation(s): FRE ITA
List of language codes
Submitted by Emily Ezust [Administrator]
Authorship
Based on
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive) [ None yet in the database ]
Settings in other languages, adaptations, or excerpts:
Other available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable): - FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , title 1: "La fin", copyright © 2017, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Text added to the website: 2004-01-17 00:00:00.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:02:03
Line count: 33
Word count: 257
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La fin
Language: French (Français) after the English
Il est temps pour moi de m'en aller, mère ; je m'en vais.
Quand dans l'obscurité qui pâlit de l'aube solitaire
tu étends tes bras vers ton bébé dans le lit,
Je dirai, « Bébé n'est pas là ! » -- mère, je m'en vais.
Je deviendrai un délicat courant d'air et te caresserai ;
et je serai dans l'eau quand tu te baigneras,
et t'embrasserai et t'embrasserai encore.
Dans la nuit venteuse quand la pluie crépitera sur les feuilles
tu entendras mon chuchotement dans ton lit,
et mon rire brillera
avec l'éclair à travers la fenêtre ouverte
dans ta chambre.
Si tu es allongée éveillée, pensant à ton bébé
jusqu'à tard dans la nuit,
je te chanterai depuis les étoiles,
« Dors mère, dors. »
Sur les rayons de lune errants je volerai au-dessus de ton lit,
et je me poserai sur ton sein quand tu dormiras.
Je deviendrai un rêve, et et à travers tes paupières presque fermées
je me glisserai dans les profondeurs de ton sommeil ;
et quand tu t'éveilleras et regardera tout autour surprise,
comme une luciole scintillante je voletterai dans l'obscurité.
Quand, lors de la grande fête de la puja,
les enfants des voisins viendront
et joueront autour de la maison,
je fondrai dans la musique de la flûte
et je palpiterai dans ton cœur toute la journée.
La chère tantine viendra avec les cadeaux de la puja
et demandera,
« Où est notre bébé, ma sœur ? »
Mère, tu lui diras doucement
« Il est dans la pupille de mes yeux,
il est dans mon cœur et dans mon âme. »
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Authorship - Translation from English to French (Français) copyright © 2017 by Guy Laffaille, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
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Text added to the website: 2017-05-16 00:00:00.
Last modified: 2017-05-16 10:14:42
Line count: 33
Word count: 268
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