L'aube allume sur les coteaux
Language: French (Français)
L'aube [allume]1 sur les coteaux,
L'éclair des serpes aiguisées :
Courez, faucilles et couteaux,
[Au travers des]2 feuilles rosées.
Le cep aux ramures brisées
Gémit ainsi qu'un être humain.
-- Douleur étrange!
[Myrto, pareil]3 à la vendange,
Mon cœur a saigné sous ta main!
Midi qui verse le sommeil
Descend de la vigne à la plaine.
Les vendangeurs, troupeau vermeil,
Dorment sous sa brûlant haleine.
Celle qui veille pour ma peine
Ceint son front d'un raisin sanglant.
-- Parure étrange !
[Myrto, pareil]3 à la vendange,
Mon désir étreint ton front blanc.
[Dans les sourds tonneaux, jusqu'au soir,
Les hottes se sont écroulées.
À l'aigre refrain du pressoir
Se mêlent des chansons ailées.
L'enfant, sur les grappes foulées
Saute avec un rire ingénu.
-- La danse étrange !
Myrto, pareil à la vendange,
Je suis meurtri sous ton pied nu !]4
Translation(s): ENG
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1 Castillon: "éveille"
2 Castillon: "A travers les"
3 Castillon: "Ô Rosa ! pareil"
4 Castillon replaces this with the following stanza, made up of rearranged lines from another poem: Mais je maudis tout bas ta puissance farouche,
Qui sans pitié suspend au dessus de ma bouche,
Où mes désirs jamais ne seront apaisés,
Cette vendange amère, offerte à mes baisers!
Mon désir, pareil à la vendange,
Etreint, Rosa, ton front blanc.
Submitted by Emily Ezust [Administrator]
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, and transliterations (if applicable): - ENG English (Faith J. Cormier) , title 1: "The grape harvest", copyright © 2006, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Text added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Last modified: 2017-10-11 12:39:24
Line count: 27
Word count: 138
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The grape harvest
Language: English after the French (Français)
Dawn awakens on the hills
the lightning of sharpened billhooks.
Run, sickles and knives,
through the dewy leaves.
The stock with its broken foliage
whimpers like a human being.
Strange pain!
Oh, Rosa! As in harvest-time,
my heart has bled under your hand!
Noon, pouring out sleep,
descends from the vineyard to the plain,
and the scarlet flock of harvesters
sleeps under its burning breath.
She who watches for my pain
binds a bloody grape upon her brow.
Strange ornament!
Oh Rosa, as in harvest-time,
my desire embraces your white brow,
but I mutter curses
on your pitiless, untamed power, which hangs above my mouth,
where my desires will never be fulfilled,
this bitter harvest, that I may kiss it!
My desire, as in harvest-time,
embraces your white brow, Rosa.
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Authorship - Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2006 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
Text added to the website: 2006-01-10.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:02:17
Line count: 24
Word count: 130
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