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La tête à la taille pareille, Une barbelette argentée, Son musequin damoiselet. Mon Dieu, quel passetemps, c'était Quand ce Belaud vire-voltait Folâtre autour d'une pelote! Quel plaisir, quand sa tête sotte Suivant sa queue en mille tours, D'un rouet imitait le cours! Ô quel malheur! ô quelle perte, Qui ne peut être recouverte! Oui, j'ai perdu depuis trois jours Mon plaisir, mon bien, mes amours! Vraiment la mort fut inhumaine, Si de voir elle eût pris la peine Un tel chat, son coeur endurci En eût eu (ce crois-je) merci. Que plût à Dieu, petit Belaud, Que j'eusse l'esprit assez bon, De pouvoir en quelque beau style Blasonner ta race gentille, Belaud, dont la beauté fut telle, Qu'elle est digne d'être immortelle! Belaud, mon petit chat! Belaud, mon petit chat gris!
Text Authorship:
- by Joachim du Bellay (1525 - c1560) [author's text not yet checked 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 Jean Françaix (1912 - 1997), "Belaud, mon petit chat gris", 1938, published 1961 [ high voice and piano or guitar ], from Trois Épigrammes, no. 3, Éd. Musicales Transatlantiques [sung text checked 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (David Jonathan Justman) , "Belaud, my little gray cat!", copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 25
Word count: 131
His well-formed head, Silvered whiskers, His damsel-like muzzle. My God, what entertainment it was When this Belaud spun insanely Around a ball. What a pleasure, when his silly head, Following his tail a thousand times Imitated the run of a spinning wheel. O what a sorrow! O what a loss, Which cannot be recovered! Yes, three days ago I lost My pleasure, my good, my loves. Truly Death was inhuman; If she took the trouble of seeing Such a cat, she should have had mercy on it, I believe. May God will, little Belaud, That I may be witty enough To be able to blazon your gentle race, In some beautiful style. Belaud, whose beauty was such, That it is worthy of being immortal. Belaud, my little cat! Belaud, my little gray cat!
Text Authorship:
- Translation from Middle French to English copyright © by David Jonathan Justman, (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.
Based on:
- a text in Middle French by Joachim du Bellay (1525 - c1560)
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 25
Word count: 133