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Et Musique est une science Qui veut qu'on rie et chante et danse. Cure n'a de mélancolie Ni d'homme qui mélancolie À chose qui ne peut valoir, Ains met tels gens en non chaloir. Partout où elle est joie y porte, Les déconfortés réconforte Et n'est seulement de l'ouïr, Fait-elle les gens réjouir. N'instrument n'en a tout le monde Qui sur musique ne se fonde, Ni qui ait souffle ou touche ou corde Qui par musique ne s'accorde. Tous ses faits plus à point mesure Que ne fait nulle autre mesure. Elle fait toutes les caroles, Par bourgs, par cités, par écoles, Où l'on fait l'office divin Qui est fait de pain et de vin. Peut-on penser chose plus digne Ni faire plus gracieux signe Com d'exhausser Dieu et sa gloire, Louer, servir, aimer et croire, Et sa douce mère en chantant Qui de grâce et de bien a tant Que le ciel et toute la terre Et quanque les mondes enserrent, Grands, petits, moyens et menus, En sont gardés et soutenus. J'ai ouï dire que les anges, Les saints, les saintes, les archanges, De voix délie, saine et claire Louent en chantant Dieu le père Pour ce qu'en gloire les a mis Com justes et parfaits amis, Et pour ç'aussi que de sa grâce Le voient adès face à face. Gloria. Or ne peuvent les saints chanter Qu'il n'ait musique en leur chanter: Donc est Musique en paradis. David, le prophète, jadis Quand il voulait apaiser l'ire De Dieu, il accordait sa lire Dont il harpait si proprement Et chantait si dévotement Hymnes, psautiers et oraisons Ainsi comme nous le lisons, Que sa harpe à Dieu tant plaisait Et son chant qu'il se rapaisait. Orpheüs mit hors Eurydice D'enfer, La cointe, la faitice, Par sa harpe et par son doux chant. Ce poète dont je vous chant Harpait si très joliement Et si chantait si doucement Que les grands arbres s'abaissaient Et les rivières retournaient Pour li ouïr et écouter, Si qu'on doit croire sans douter Que ce sont miracles apertes Que Musique fait. C'est voir, certes.
Authorship:
- by Guillaume de Machaut (c1300 - 1377), first published c1372 [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 Frank Martin (1890 - 1974), "Ode à la Musique" [chorus] [text verified 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Ahmed E. Ismail) , title 1: "Ode to music", copyright © 2004, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this page: Ahmed E. Ismail
This text was added to the website: 2004-05-06
Line count: 63
Word count: 349
So Music is a science That makes us laugh and sing and dance. And a cure for melancholy or for men who are melancholy About something which has no worth, But leaves them uncaring. Everywhere it goes it brings joy; The miserable are comforted And just by hearing it, It makes men rejoice. No instrument in all the world Is not founded upon music, Nor that with wind or touch or string Cannot play in consort. All its deeds are of greater measure Than any other measure. It creates all the carols, In towns, in cities, in schools, Where one performs the office divine, Which is offered with bread and wine. Can one think of anything more fitting Or make a more gracious offering Than to exalt God and his glory, To praise, to serve, to love, and to believe; And his sweet mother, singing, Who is so full of grace and good That the heaven and all the earth And whatsoever the worlds surround, Great, small, average, and fine, Are guarded and sustained by them. I have heard it said that the angels, All the saints, and the archangels, In voices fine, strong, and clear Praise in song God the father For he in glory made them Like true and perfect friends, And that also through his grace They may soon see him face to face. Gloria. For the saints can only sing When the music sings in them: Thus is Music in paradise. Once David, the prophet, When he wanted to appease the ire Of God, he consorted with his lyre, Which he played so wondrously, And sang so devotedly Hymns, psalms, and prayers Even as we read them, That his harp and his song So pleased God that he relented. Orpheus led Eurydice, The elegant and fine lady, out of Hades With his harp and with his sweet song. This poet about whom to you I sing Played his harp so beautifully And sang so sweetly That the great trees lowered their branches And the rivers changed their course To hear him and listen. So one must believe without doubting That these are apparent miracles That Music has made. It's certainly true.
Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2004 by Ahmed E. Ismail, (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.
Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
- a text in French (Français) by Guillaume de Machaut (c1300 - 1377), first published c1372
This text was added to the website: 2004-05-06
Line count: 63
Word count: 365