by Wilfred Owen (1893 - 1918)
Translation Jean-Pierre Granger
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.
About the headline (FAQ)
Authorship:
- by Wilfred Owen (1893 - 1918), "The kind ghosts", from Poems, first published 1931 [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 (Edward) Benjamin Britten (1913 - 1976), "She sleeps on soft, last breaths", op. 60 no. 6, published 1959 [tenor, string orchestra, English horn obbligato], from Nocturne for tenor solo, seven obligato instruments and string orchestra, no. 6. [text verified 1 time]
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
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 12
Word count: 102
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:
- Translation from English to French (Français) by Jean-Pierre Granger
Based on:
- a text in English by Wilfred Owen (1893 - 1918), "The kind ghosts", from Poems, first published 1931
This text was added to the website: 2010-10-07
Line count: 12
Word count: 107