The LiederNet Archive
WARNING. Not all the material on this website is in the public domain.
It is illegal to copy and distribute our copyright-protected material without permission.
For more information, contact us at the following address:
licenses (AT) lieder (DOT) net

She sleeps on soft, last breaths; but no...

Language: English

She sleeps on soft, last breaths; but no ghost looms 
Out of the stillness of her palace wall,
Her wall of boys on boys and dooms on dooms.

She dreams of golden gardens and sweet glooms,
Not marvelling why her roses never fall
Nor what red mouths were torn to make their blooms.

The shades keep down which well might roam her hall.
Quiet their blood lies in her crimson rooms
And she is not afraid of their footfall.

They move not from her tapestries, their pall,
Nor pace her terraces, their hecatombs,
Lest aught she be disturbed, or grieved at all.


Translation(s): CAT FRE

List of language codes

About the headline (FAQ)

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):

  • FRE French (Français) (Jean-Pierre Granger)
  • CAT Catalan (Català) (Salvador Pila) , title 1: "Ella dorm amb suaus, incessants respirs", copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Text added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.

Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:01:44
Line count: 12
Word count: 102

Gentle Reminder
This website began in 1995 as a personal project, and I have 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 gift is greatly appreciated.
     - Emily Ezust

Elle repose d'un doux souffle suprême ;...

Language: French (Français) after the English

Elle repose d'un doux souffle suprême ; mais nul spectre ne surgit
De le muraille impassible de son palais,
Son rempart d'enfants et de ruines empilés.

Elle rêve de jardins dorés, de douces grisailles,
Ne pas s'étonner de ce que ses roses ne se fanent jamais,
Ni que des bouches rouges furent déchirées pour confectionner leurs calices.

Les ombres camouflent ce qui pourrait bien rôder en ses couloirs.
Muet, leur sang dort dans ses chambres cramoisies
Et elle ne redoute nullement leur pas.

Ils ne quittent pas ses tapisseries, leur linceul,
Ni n'arpentent ses terrasses, lieux de leurs hécatombes,
Afin de ne point la troubler ni l'affliger.


About the headline (FAQ)

The translator has released this translation into the public domain.

Authorship


Based on
  • a text in English by Wilfred Owen (1893 - 1918), "The kind ghosts", from Poems, first published 1931 CAT
      • This text was set to music by the following composer(s): Benjamin Britten. Go to the text.

 

Text added to the website: 2010-10-07.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:04:03
Line count: 12
Word count: 107