by Pierre de Ronsard (1524 - 1585)
Translation © by David Wyatt

Contre mon gré l'atrait de tes beaus...
Language: French (Français) 
Available translation(s): ENG
Contre mon gré l'atrait de tes beaus yeus
Donte mon cœur, mais quand je te veus dire
Quell'est ma mort, tu ne t'en fais que rire,
Et de mon mal tu as le cœur joïeus.

Puis qu'en t'aimant je ne puis avoir mieus,
Soufre du moins que pour toi je soupire:
Assés et trop ton bel oeil me martire,
Sans te moquer de mon mal soucieus.

Moquer mon mal, rire de ma douleur,
Par un dedain redoubler mon malheur,
Haïr qui t'aime, et vivre de ses pleintes,

Rompre ta foi, manquer [de]1 ton devoir,
Cela, cruelle, [et]2 n'est-ce pas avoir
Tes mains de sang, et d'homicide teintes?

F. Regnard sets stanzas 1-2

About the headline (FAQ)

View original text (without footnotes)
1 Boni: "à"
2 Boni: "hé"
Text as set by Regnard:
Contre mon gré, l'attrait de tes beaux yeux
Dompte mon coeur, mais quand je te veux dire
Quelle est ma mort, tu ne t'en fais que rire,
Et de mon mal to as le coeur joyeux.

Puisqu'en t'aimant je ne puis avoir mieux,
Souffre du moins que pour toi je soupire.
Assez et trop ton bel oeil me martyre
Sans te moquer de mon mal soucieux.

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 (David Wyatt) , "Against my wish", copyright © 2012, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

Text added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Last modified: 2015-02-26 14:35:11
Line count: 14
Word count: 107

Against my wish
Language: English  after the French (Français) 
Against my wish, the attraction of your lovely eyes
Tames my heart, but when I want to say to you
That it is my death too, you do nothing but laugh
And in my pain your heart rejoices.

As in loving you I can have no better
At least let me yearn for you
Enough and more suffering your lovely eye brings me
Without you laughing at the pain of my yearning.

Mocking my pain, laughing at my sadness,
Doubling my misfortune by your disdain,
Hating him who loves you, and living for his groans

Breaking your word, failing to do what you should -- 
All this, cruel one, [isn't]1 it like having
Blood on your hands, stained by murder?

View original text (without footnotes)
1 Boni: "oh isn't"

Authorship

  • Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2012 by David Wyatt, (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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Text added to the website: 2012-05-22 00:00:00
Last modified: 2015-02-26 14:36:24
Line count: 14
Word count: 119