by
Émile Deschamps (1791 - 1871)
Saltarelle
Language: French (Français)
Venez, enfants de la Romagne,
Tous chantant de gais refrains,
Quittez la plaine et la montagne
Pour danser aux tambourins.
Rome, la sainte vous les donne,
Ces plaisirs que la madonne,
De son chêne vous pardonne,
Se voilant quand il le faut.
Le carnaval avec son masque,
Ses paillettes sur la basque,
Ses grelots, son cri fantasque,
Met les sbires en défaut.
Frappons le sol d'un pied sonore!
Dans nos mains frappons encore!
La nuit vient et puis l'aurore,
Rien n'y fait dansons toujours!
Plus d'un baiser s'échappe et vole;
Se plaint-on? la danse folle,
Coupe aux mères la parole,
C'est tout gain pour les amours.
Le bon curé, qui pour nous suivre,
Laisse tout, mais qui sait vivre,
Ne voit rien avec son livre,
De ce qu'il ne doit pas voir.
Mais quoi! Demain les Camadules
Sortiront de leurs cellules;
Puis, carème, jeûne et bulles,
Sur la terre vont pleuvoir.
Text Authorship:
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Faith J. Cormier) , "Saltarello", copyright © 2004, (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: 28
Word count: 151
Saltarello
Language: English after the French (Français)
Come, Romany children,
all singing your gay refrains,
leave the plain and the mountain
to dance to the tambourines.
Holy Rome gives you these pleasures
and the Madonna, high in her oak tree,
forgives you for them,
veiling her face when she has to.
The masked carnival,
sequined bodices,
bells, fantastic cry,
throws the police off the scent.
Let us stamp our feet
and clap our hands!
Night comes, and then the dawn.
There is nothing to do but keep dancing!
More than one kiss escapes and flies off.
Do we complain? The wild dance
makes mothers speechless.
So much the better for love.
The good parish priest, who leaves everything to follow us,
but who knows how to live,
doesn't see anything with his book
that he is not supposed to see.
But what! Tomorrow the Camaldolese
will leave their cells;
and Lent, fasting and bulls
will rain onto the earth.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2004 by Faith J. Cormier, (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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Based on:
This text was added to the website: 2004-10-04
Line count: 28
Word count: 152
