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It is illegal to copy and distribute our copyright-protected material without permission. It is also illegal to reprint copyright texts or translations without the name of the author or translator.

To inquire about permissions and rates, contact Emily Ezust at licenses@email.lieder.example.net

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by Anna Elizabeth Mathieu, Comtesse de Noailles (1876 - 1933)
Translation © by Emily Ezust

Quand le soir est venu, quand tout est...
Language: French (Français) 
Our translations:  ENG LIT
Quand le soir est venu, [quand]1 tout est calme enfin
Dans la chaude nature,
Voici que naît sous l'arbre et sous le ciel divin
La plus vive torture :

Sur les graviers d'argent, dans les bois apaisés
Des violons s'exaltent,
Ce sont des jets de cris, de sanglots, de baisers,
Sans contrainte et sans haltes.

Il semble que l'archet se cabre, qu'il se tord
Sur les luisantes cordes,
Tant ce sont des appels de plaisir et de mort,
Et de miséricorde !

Comme le rossignol se convulse et se plaint,
Comme le chien aboie,
L'harmonie amoureuse a des râles câlins
Et fait hurler sa joie ;

Et le brûlant archet, enroulé de langueur
Gémit, souffre, caresse,
Poignard voluptueux, qui pénètre le cœur
D'une épuisante ivresse !

Alors, ceux qui sont là, dans l'odeur de santal
Que le vent noir déplisse,
Prennent la nuit paisible à témoin de leur mal
Et de leur long supplice.

Les yeux n'ont plus de crainte, ils veulent du bonheur,
Ils défaillent, ils flottent,
Nul ne cherche à cacher la plaintive impudeur,
Tous les regards sanglotent.

Bacchus bohémien ! Dieu des âcres liqueurs,
Est-ce donc toi qui presses
Ce désir sur les dents, ce citron sur les cœurs,
Ces vignes de tristesse ?

Là-bas l'ombre fraîchit, le ciel est calme et doux,
C'est l'odeur du feuillage,
Mais un cercle de feu se ferme autour de nous,
On s'acharne au carnage.

Les lèvres ont ce pli de douleur et de faim,
Cette humble et pâle extase
Que donne le désir, quand il est comme un vin
Qui déborde du vase.

Ah ! perfides jardins, qui donc pouvait savoir
En voyant votre foule
Se grouper mollement dans les bosquets du soir,
Que c'est le sang qui coule !

Archets ! soyez maudits pour vos brûlants accords,
Pour votre âme explosive,
Fers rouges qui dans l'ombre arrachez à nos corps
Des lambeaux de chair vive…

Available sung texts: (what is this?)

•   C. Saint-Saëns 

C. Saint-Saëns sets stanzas 1-3, 5, 12

About the headline (FAQ)

View original text (without footnotes)

Confirmed with Comtesse Mathieu de Noailles, Les Éblouissements, Paris, Calmann-Lévy, éditeurs, 1907, pages 319-321.

1 Saint-Saëns: "que" (typo?)

Text Authorship:

  • by Anna Elizabeth Mathieu, Comtesse de Noailles (1876 - 1933), "Les Violons dans le soir", appears in Les Éblouissements, no. 3, first published 1907 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):

  • by Charles Camille Saint-Saëns (1835 - 1921), "Violons dans le soir", 1907, published 1907, stanzas 1-3,5,12 [ medium voice, piano, violin obbligato ], Éd. Durand [sung text checked 1 time]

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Emily Ezust) , no title, copyright © 2016
  • LIT Lithuanian (Lietuvių kalba) (Giedrius Prunskus) , copyright © 2022, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Research team for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Ted Perry

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 48
Word count: 308

When evening has come and all is finally...
Language: English  after the French (Français) 
When evening has come and all is finally calm
In warm Nature,
There stirs beneath the trees and beneath the divine sky
The keenest torment.

On the silver gravel, in the tranquil woods,
There is a flourish of violins:
It is a stream of cries, of sobs, of kisses,
Without restraint and without cease.

It seems as if the violin bow is twisting
Over the gleaming strings,
For these are true calls of pleasure and of death
-- And of mercy.

[...
...
...
...]

And the burning bow reels in lassitude,
Groaning, suffering and caressing -
A voluptuous dagger that pierces the heart
With exhausting euphoria.

[...
...
...
...]

[...
...
...
...]

[...
...
...
...]

[...
...
...
...]

[...
...
...
...]

[...
...
...
...]

Bows, be cursed for your burning chords,
For your explosive soul:
Red-hot brands that in the shadows tear from our bodies
Scraps of living flesh!

About the headline (FAQ)

Translation of titles
"Les Violons dans le soir" = "Violins in the evening"
"Violons dans le soir" = "Violins in the evening"


Text Authorship:

  • Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2016 by Emily Ezust

    Emily Ezust permits her translations to be reproduced without prior permission for printed (not online) programs to free-admission concerts only, provided the following credit is given:

    Translation copyright © by Emily Ezust,
    from the LiederNet Archive

    For any other purpose, please write to the e-mail address below to request permission and discuss possible fees.
    licenses@email.lieder.example.net

Based on:

  • a text in French (Français) by Anna Elizabeth Mathieu, Comtesse de Noailles (1876 - 1933), "Les Violons dans le soir", appears in Les Éblouissements, no. 3, first published 1907
    • Go to the text page.

 

This text was added to the website: 2016-02-04
Line count: 48
Word count: 126

Gentle Reminder

This website began in 1995 as a personal project by Emily Ezust, who has been working on it full-time without a salary since 2008. Our research has never had any government or institutional funding, so if you found the information here useful, please consider making a donation. Your help is greatly appreciated!
–Emily Ezust, Founder

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