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Une cérémonie de Noël
Translations © by Guy Laffaille
Song Cycle by (Edward) Benjamin Britten (1913 - 1976)
View original-language texts alone: A Ceremony of Carols
Today Christ is born; Today the Saviour has appeared; Today the angels sing, The archangels rejoice, Today the righteous rejoice, saying: Glory be to God in the highest. Alleluia!
Text Authorship:
- by Anonymous / Unidentified Author
Based on:
- a text in Latin by Bible or other Sacred Texts , a medieval paraphrase of Luke 2:11, 13-14 and Psalm 33:1
Go to the general single-text view
Aujourd'hui le Christ est né ; Aujourd'hui le Sauveur est apparu ; Aujourd'hui les anges chantent, Les archanges se réjouissent, Aujourd'hui les justes se réjouissent, en disant : Gloire à Dieu, au plus haut, Alléluia !
Text Authorship:
- Translation from English to French (Français) copyright © 2015 by Guy Laffaille, (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.
Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
- a text in English by Anonymous/Unidentified Artist
Based on:
- a text in Latin by Bible or other Sacred Texts , a medieval paraphrase of Luke 2:11, 13-14 and Psalm 33:1
Go to the general single-text view
Translation of titles"Procession" = "Procession"
"Recession" = "Récession"
This text was added to the website: 2015-08-16
Line count: 7
Word count: 33
Wolcum, Wolcum, Wolcum be thou hevenè king. Wolcum Yole! Wolcum, born in one morning. Wolcum for whom we sall sing! Wolcum be ye Stevene and Jon. Wolcum Innocentes every one. Wolcum, Thomas marter one. Wolcum, be ye, Good Newe Yere. Wolcum Twelfth Day both in fere, Wolcum, seintes lefe and dere, Wolcum Yole! Candelmesse, Quene of bliss. Wolcum bothe to more and lesse. Wolcum be ye that are here. Wolcum Yole! Wolcum alle and make good cheer. Wolcum alle another yere. Wolcum Yole! Wolcum!
Text Authorship:
- by Anonymous / Unidentified Author ( 14th century )
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Bienvenue, bienvenue, Bienvenue à toi, le roi des cieux. Bienvenue Noël ! Bienvenue à celui qui est né ce matin, Bienvenue, pour qui nous allons chanter ! Bienvenue à vous Étienne et Jean. Bienvenue aux innocents, à tous, Bienvenue, Thomas, le martyr, Bienvenue à toi, bonne nouvelle année, Bienvenue, douzième jour, presque ici, Bienvenue, Saints, aimés et chers, Bienvenue Noël ! Chandeleur, reine du bonheur, Bienvenue grands et petits, Bienvenue à vous qui êtes ici, Bienvenue Noël ! Bienvenue à tous et faites bonne chère, Bienvenue à tous en la nouvelle année, Bienvenue Noël !
Text Authorship:
- Translation from English to French (Français) copyright © 2015 by Guy Laffaille, (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:
- a text in English by Anonymous/Unidentified Artist
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This text was added to the website: 2015-08-16
Line count: 19
Word count: 91
There is no rose of such virtue As is the rose that bare Jesu: Alleluya. For in this rose contained was Heaven and earth in little space: Res miranda. By that rose we may well see That he is God in person three: Pari forma. The angels sung the shepherds to: "Gloria in excelsis Deo", Gaudeamus. Leave we all this worldly mirth, And follow we this joyful birth: Transeamus.
Text Authorship:
- by Anonymous / Unidentified Author ( 15th-century )
See other settings of this text.
Il n'y a pas de rose d'une telle vertu Que la rose qui a porté Jésus : Alléluia. Car dans cette rose étaient contenus Le ciel et la terre dans un petit espace : Chose miraculeuse. Par cette rose nous pouvons bien voir Qu'il est Dieu en trois personnes : De forme semblable. Les anges ont chanté aux bergers : Gloire à Dieu au plus haut, Réjouisson-nous. Quittons toute cette joie terrestre Et suivons cette joyeuse naissance : Allons.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from English to French (Français) copyright © 2015 by Guy Laffaille, (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:
- a text in English by Anonymous/Unidentified Artist
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This text was added to the website: 2015-08-16
Line count: 15
Word count: 74
That yongë child when it gan weep With song she lulled him asleep; That was so sweet a melody It passèd alle minstrelsy. The nightingalë sang also: Her song is hoarse and nought thereto: Whoso attendeth to her song And leaveth the first then doth he wrong.
Text Authorship:
- by Anonymous / Unidentified Author ( 14th century )
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Ce jeune enfant quand il pleurait, Avec un chant elle le berçait pour l'endormir ; C'était une mélodie si douce Qu'elle dépassait tous les ménestrels. Le rossignol chantait aussi : Son chant est enroué et faible devant lui : Celui qui l'entend Et quitte le premier chant agit mal.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from English to French (Français) copyright © 2015 by Guy Laffaille, (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.
Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
- a text in English by Anonymous/Unidentified Artist
Go to the general single-text view
This text was added to the website: 2015-08-16
Line count: 8
Word count: 46
O my deir hert, young Jesus sweit, Prepare thy creddil in my spreit, And I sall rock thee in my hert And never mair from thee depart. But I sall praise thee evermoir With sangis sweit unto thy gloir; The knees of my heart sall I bow, And sing that richt Balulalow!
Text Authorship:
- by The brothers Wedderburn (James, John and Robert) (flourished 1548) [an adaptation]
Based on:
- a text in German (Deutsch) by Martin Luther (1483 - 1546), "Vom Himmel hoch, da komm ich her"
See other settings of this text.
Note: freely adapted from stanzas 13 and 14 of Martin Luther's text.
Ô mon cher cœur, doux petit Jésus, Prépare ta crèche dans mon esprit, Et je te bercerai dans mon cœur Et plus jamais je ne te quitterai. mais je te louerai toujours Avec des chants doux à ta gloire ; Je plierai les genoux de mon cœur, Et je chanterai cette berceuse !
Text Authorship:
- Translation from English to French (Français) copyright © 2015 by Guy Laffaille, (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.
Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
- a text in English by The brothers Wedderburn (James, John and Robert) (flourished 1548) [an adaptation]
Based on:
- a text in German (Deutsch) by Martin Luther (1483 - 1546), "Vom Himmel hoch, da komm ich her"
Go to the general single-text view
Translation of title "Balulalow" = "Berceuse"This text was added to the website: 2015-08-16
Line count: 8
Word count: 52
I sing of a maiden that is makèles: King of all kings to her son she ches. He came al so stille there his moder was, As dew in Aprille that falleth on the grass. He came al so stille to his moder bour, As dew in Aprille that falleth on the flour. He came al so stille there his moder lay, As dew in Aprille that falleth on the spray. Moder and mayden was never none but she; Well may such a lady Goddes moder be.
Text Authorship:
- by Anonymous / Unidentified Author
Based on:
- a text in Middle English by Anonymous/Unidentified Artist , first published c1400
See other settings of this text.
Glossarymakèles = matchless
ches = chose
bour = bower
flour = flower
Je chante une jeune fille qui est sans égale : Le roi des rois comme fils elle choisit. Il vint si doucement, là où sa mère était, comme la rosée en avril qui tombe sur l'herbe. Il vint si doucement, vers la petite maison de sa mère, comme la rosée en avril qui tombe sur la fleur. Il vint si doucement, là où sa mère était allongée, comme la rosée en avril qui tombe sur la branche. Mère et vierge, il n'y jamais d'autre qu'elle ; Une telle dame peut bien Être la mère de Dieu.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from English to French (Français) copyright © 2015 by Guy Laffaille, (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.
Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
- a text in English by Anonymous/Unidentified Artist
Based on:
- a text in Middle English by Anonymous/Unidentified Artist , first published c1400
Go to the general single-text view
This text was added to the website: 2015-08-16
Line count: 20
Word count: 94
This little Babe so few days old is come to rifle Satan's fold; all hell doth at his presence quake though he himself for cold do shake; for in this weak unarmèd wise the gates of hell he will surprise. With tears he fights and wins the field, his naked breast stands for a shield; his battering shot are babish cries, his arrows looks of weeping eyes, his martial ensigns Cold and Need and feeble Flesh his warrior's steed. His camp is pitchèd in a stall, his bulwark but a broken wall; the crib his trench, haystacks his stakes; of shepherds he his muster makes; and thus, as sure his foe to wound, the angels' trump alarum sound. My soul, with Christ join thou in fight, stick to the tents that he hath pight. Within his crib is surest ward, this little Babe will be thy guard. If thou wilt foil thy foes with joy, then flit not from this heavenly Boy.
Ce petit bébé âgé de si peu de jours est venu pour mettre à bas la demeure de Satan ; tout l'enfer en sa présence tremble ; bine que lui-même il tremble de froid ; car dans sa sagesse faible et désarmée il va surprendre les portes de l'enfer. Avec des larmes il lutte et gagne le combat, sa poitrine nue sert de bouclier ; ses canons sont ses cris de bébé, ses flèches sont les regards d'yeux en larmes, ses emblèmes martiales sont le Froid et le dénuement, et la chair faible est sa monture de guerrier. Son camp est établi dans une étable, son rempart est un mur brisé : la crèche est sa tranchée, les meules de foin ses pieux, des bergers il fait sa troupe : et ainsi sûre de blesser l'ennemi la trompette des anges sonne l'alarme. Mon âme, joins-toi au Christ dans la bataille, les tentes qu'il a dressées, Dans sa crèche est le quartier le plus sûr, ce petit bébé sera ton gardien. Si tu veux tes ennemis joyeusement, alors ne t'éloigne pas de ce divin garçon.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to French (Français) copyright © 2015 by Guy Laffaille, (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.
Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
- a text in German (Deutsch) by Robert Southwell (1561? - 1595)
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This text was added to the website: 2015-08-16
Line count: 24
Word count: 178
— Tacet —
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Behold, a silly tender babe in freezing winter night, In homely manger trembling lies; alas, a piteous sight! The inns are full, no man will yield this little pilgrim bed. But forced he is with silly beasts, in crib to shroud his head. This stable is a Prince's court, this crib his chair of State; The beasts are parcel of his pomp, this wooden dish his plate. The persons in that poor attire his royal liveries wear; The Prince himself is come from Heav'n; this pomp is prizèd there. With joy approach o Christian wight, do homage to thy King; And highly praise his humble pomp, which he from Heav'n doth bring.
Regardez, un bébé tendre et frêle dans une nuit glaciale d'hiver, Dans une mangeoire ordinaire est étendu tremblant : hélas, quel triste spectacle ! Les auberges sont pleines, personne ne veut abandonner son lit à ce petit pèlerin. Ainsi il est forcé de rester avec les humbles bêtes, dans une mangeoire d'ensevelir sa tête. Cette étable est une cour de prince, cette crèche son trône ; Les bêtes font partie de sa pompe, ce plat en bois est sa vaisselle. Les personnes dans ces pauvres habits portent sa livrée royale ; Le prince lui-même est venu du ciel ; cette pompe est appréciée ici. Avec joie, approche, ô être chrétien , rends hommage à ton Roi ; Et loue hautement son humble pompe qu'il apporte du ciel.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from English to French (Français) copyright © 2015 by Guy Laffaille, (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.
Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
- a text in English by Robert Southwell (1561? - 1595)
Go to the general single-text view
Translation of title "In freezing winter night" = "Dans une nuit glaciale d'hiver"This text was added to the website: 2015-08-16
Line count: 10
Word count: 121
Pleasure it is To hear, iwis, The Birdès sing. The deer in the dale, The sheep in the vale, The corn springing. God’s purveyance For sustenance, It is for man. Then we always To give him praise, And thank him than, And thank him than.
C'est un plaisir D'entendre, c'est vrai, Les oiseaux chanter, Le cerf dans le vallon, Les moutons dans la vallée, Le blé qui pousse, La prévoyance de Dieu Pour nourriture C'est pour l'homme. Alors toujours nous Chantons ses louanges, Et le remercions ainsi, Et le remercions ainsi.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from English to French (Français) copyright © 2015 by Guy Laffaille, (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:
- a text in English by William Cornish (1465 - 1523)
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Translation of title "Spring carol" = "Chant de printemps"This text was added to the website: 2015-08-16
Line count: 13
Word count: 46
Deo gracias! Deo gracias! Adam lay ybounden, Bounden in a bond, Four thousand winter Thought he not too long; And all was for an apple, An apple that he took, As clerkës finden Written in their book. Né had one apple taken been, The apple taken been, Né had never Our Lady A been Heaven's Queen. Blessèd be the time That apple takèn was. Therefore we moun singen: Deo gratias!
Text Authorship:
- by Anonymous / Unidentified Author ( 15th century )
See other settings of this text.
Adam était lié, Lié par un lien, Quatre mille hivers Qu'il n'a pas pensé être trop longs. Et tout vint d'une pomme, Une pomme qu'il prit, Comme les clercs ont trouvé Écrit dans leurs livres. Si jamais cette pomme n'avait pas été prise, Si la pomme n'avait pas été prise, Jamais Notre Dame n'aurait Été reine des cieux. Bénie soit l'heure où cette pomme fut prise, Donc nous pouvons chanter : Grâces soient rendues à Dieu !
Text Authorship:
- Translation from English to French (Français) copyright © 2015 by Guy Laffaille, (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.
Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
- a text in English by Anonymous/Unidentified Artist
Go to the general single-text view
Translation of title "Deo gracias" = "Grâces soient rendues à Dieu"This text was added to the website: 2015-08-16
Line count: 16
Word count: 76
Today Christ is born; Today the Saviour has appeared; Today the angels sing, The archangels rejoice, Today the righteous rejoice, saying: Glory be to God in the highest. Alleluia!
Text Authorship:
- by Anonymous / Unidentified Author
Based on:
- a text in Latin by Bible or other Sacred Texts , a medieval paraphrase of Luke 2:11, 13-14 and Psalm 33:1
Go to the general single-text view
Aujourd'hui le Christ est né ; Aujourd'hui le Sauveur est apparu ; Aujourd'hui les anges chantent, Les archanges se réjouissent, Aujourd'hui les justes se réjouissent, en disant : Gloire à Dieu, au plus haut, Alléluia !
Text Authorship:
- Translation from English to French (Français) copyright © 2015 by Guy Laffaille, (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.
Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
- a text in English by Anonymous/Unidentified Artist
Based on:
- a text in Latin by Bible or other Sacred Texts , a medieval paraphrase of Luke 2:11, 13-14 and Psalm 33:1
Go to the general single-text view
Translation of titles"Procession" = "Procession"
"Recession" = "Récession"
This text was added to the website: 2015-08-16
Line count: 7
Word count: 33