Odelette
Language: French (Français)
Available translation(s): ENG
J'aurais pu dire mon Amour
Tout haut
Dans le grand jour
Ardent et chaud
Du bel été roux qui l'exalte et l'enivre
Et le dresse debout avec un rire
À tout écho!
J'aurais pu dire:
Mon amour est heureux, voyez
Son manteau de pourpre qui traîne
Jusqu'à ses pieds!
Ses mains sont pleines
De roses qu'il effeuille et qui parfume l'air;
Le ciel est clair
Sur sa maison de marbre tiède
Et blanc et veiné comme une chair
Douce aux lèvres . . .
Mais non,
Je l'ai vêtu de bure et de laine;
Son manteau traîne
Sur ses talons;
Il passe en souriant à peine
Et quand il chante c'est si bas
Que l'on ne se retourne pas
Pour cueillir sa chanson éclose
Dans le soir qu'elle a parfumé;
Il n'a ni jardin ni maison,
Et il fait semblant d'être pauvre
Pour mieux cacher qu'il est aimé.
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 (Meredith Achey) , "Little ode", copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this page: Geoffrey Wieting
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 29
Word count: 148
Little ode
Language: English  after the French (Français)
I could have proclaimed my Love
Right out loud
In the great day
Ardent and hot
Of the beautiful red-headed summer that exalts it and intoxicates it
And holds it up with a laugh
Echoing everywhere!
I could have said:
My love is happy, see
Its purple coat that falls
All the way to its feet!
Its hands are full
Of roses which bloom and perfume the air;
The sky is clear
Over its warm marble house
And white and veined like flesh
Sweet to the lips...
But no,
I dressed it in homespun and wool;
Its coat drags
Over its heels;
It passes, barely smiling,
And when it sings, it's so quiet
That no one turns
To gather its blooming song
In the evening, which [the song] perfumes;
It has neither a garden nor a home,
And it pretends to be poor
Better to hide that it is loved.
Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2011 by Meredith Achey, (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: 2011-06-20
Line count: 29
Word count: 150