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Betrothal for Laughs
Translations © by Laura Claycomb
Song Cycle by Francis Poulenc (1899 - 1963)
View original-language texts alone: Fiançailles pour rire
André ne connaît pas la dame Qu'il prend aujourd'hui par la main. A-t-elle un coeur à lendemains, Et pour le soir a-t-elle une âme? Au retour d'un bal campagnard S'en allait-elle en robe vague Chercher dans les meules la bague Des fiancailles du hasard? A-t-elle eu peur, la nuit venue, Guettée par les ombres d'hier, Dans son jardin, lorsque l'hiver Entrait par la grande avenue? Il l'a aimée pour sa couleur, Pour sa bonne humeur de Dimanche. Pâlira-t-elle aux feuilles blanches De son album des temps meilleurs?
Text Authorship:
- by Louise de Vilmorin (1902 - 1969), "La Dame d'André", written 1939, appears in Fiançailles pour rire, no. 11, Paris, Éd. NRF Gallimard, first published 1939
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Please note: this text, provided here for educational and research use, is in the public domain in Canada, but it may still be copyright in other legal jurisdictions. The LiederNet Archive makes no guarantee that the above text is public domain in your country. Please consult your country's copyright statutes or a qualified IP attorney to verify whether a certain text is in the public domain in your country or if downloading or distributing a copy constitutes fair use. The LiederNet Archive assumes no legal responsibility or liability for the copyright compliance of third parties.
Andre does not know the lady whose hand he takes today in marriage. Does she have a heart for tomorrows And in the evening does she have a soul? Coming back from a country dance did she go off in a light dress to look in the grinding stones for the ring of a chance engagement? Was she afraid once the night came, threatened by the shadows of yesterday, in her garden, when the winter entered through the grand avenue? He had loved her for her complexion, for her good Sunday humor. Will she pale at the white leaves of her album of better times?
Text Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2012 by Laura Claycomb, (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 French (Français) by Louise de Vilmorin (1902 - 1969), "La Dame d'André", written 1939, appears in Fiançailles pour rire, no. 11, Paris, Éd. NRF Gallimard, first published 1939
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This text was added to the website: 2012-09-24
Line count: 16
Word count: 105
Je ne peux plus rien dire Ni rien faire pour lui. Il est mort de sa belle Il est mort de sa mort belle Dehors Sus l'arbre de la Loi En plein silence En plein paysage Dans l'herbe. Il est mort inaperçu En criant son passage En appelant En m'appelant. Mais comme j'étais loin de lui Et que sa voix ne portait plus Il est mort seul dans la bois Sous son arbre d'enfance. Et je ne peux plus rien dire Ni rien faire pour lui.
Text Authorship:
- by Louise de Vilmorin (1902 - 1969), "Dans l'herbe", written 1939, appears in Fiançailles pour rire, no. 16, Paris, Éd. NRF Gallimard, first published 1939
Go to the general single-text view
Please note: this text, provided here for educational and research use, is in the public domain in Canada, but it may still be copyright in other legal jurisdictions. The LiederNet Archive makes no guarantee that the above text is public domain in your country. Please consult your country's copyright statutes or a qualified IP attorney to verify whether a certain text is in the public domain in your country or if downloading or distributing a copy constitutes fair use. The LiederNet Archive assumes no legal responsibility or liability for the copyright compliance of third parties.
I can not say anything more nor do anything else for him. He is dead from his beautiful one He is dead from his beautiful death. Outside On the tree of the Law In total silence In the middle of the landscape in the grass. He died, unnoticed Crying out his passage Calling out Calling out to me. But because I was far away from him And his voice didn't carry any more He died alone in the forest under the tree of his youth. And I can not say anything more Nor do anything else for him.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2012 by Laura Claycomb, (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 French (Français) by Louise de Vilmorin (1902 - 1969), "Dans l'herbe", written 1939, appears in Fiançailles pour rire, no. 16, Paris, Éd. NRF Gallimard, first published 1939
Go to the general single-text view
This text was added to the website: 2012-09-24
Line count: 19
Word count: 98
En allant se coucher le soleil Se reflète au vernis de ma table : C'est le fromage rond de la fable Au bec de mes ciseaux devermeil. Mais où est le corbeau ? Il vole. Je voudrais coudre mais un aimant Attire à lui toutes mes aiguilles. Sur la place les joueurs de quilles De belle en belle passent le temps. Mais où est mon amant ? Il vole. C'est un voleur que j'ai pour amant, Le corbeau vole et mon amant vole, Voleur de cœur manque à sa parole Et voleur de fromage est absent. Mais où est le bonheur ? Il vole. Je pleure sous le saule pleureur Je mêle mes larmes à ses feuilles Je pleure car je veux qu'on me veuille Et je ne plais pas à mon voleur. Mais où donc est l'amour ? Il vole. Trouvez la rime à ma déraison Et par les routes du paysage Ramenez-moi mon amant volage Qui prend les cœurs et perd ma raison. Je veux que mon voleur me vole.
Text Authorship:
- by Louise de Vilmorin (1902 - 1969), "Il vole", written 1939, appears in Fiançailles pour rire, no. 6, Paris, Éd. NRF Gallimard, first published 1939
Go to the general single-text view
Please note: this text, provided here for educational and research use, is in the public domain in Canada, but it may still be copyright in other legal jurisdictions. The LiederNet Archive makes no guarantee that the above text is public domain in your country. Please consult your country's copyright statutes or a qualified IP attorney to verify whether a certain text is in the public domain in your country or if downloading or distributing a copy constitutes fair use. The LiederNet Archive assumes no legal responsibility or liability for the copyright compliance of third parties.
Along with the setting of the sun, it reflects on the varnish of my table: It's the round cheese of the fable at the beak of my ruby scissors. But where is the crow? He steals away. I'd like to sew but a magnet attracts all my needles. On the square the lawn bowlers pass their time flirting. But where's my lover? He steals away. It's a thief that I have for a lover, The crow flies and my lover steals, Heart-stealer doesn't keep his word and the cheese stealer is absent. But where's happiness? He steals it. But where's happiness? It flies away. I weep under the weeping willow; I mix my tears with its leaves. I cry because I want someone to want me, but I don't please my thief. But where then is love? It flies away. Find the reason in my rhyme And from the routes of the countryside Bring me back my flighty lover Who steals hearts and loses my mind. I want my thief to steal me away..
Text Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2011 by Laura Claycomb, (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 French (Français) by Louise de Vilmorin (1902 - 1969), "Il vole", written 1939, appears in Fiançailles pour rire, no. 6, Paris, Éd. NRF Gallimard, first published 1939
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This text was added to the website: 2011-11-24
Line count: 26
Word count: 174
Mon cadavre est doux comme un gant Doux comme un gant de peau glacée Et mes prunelles effacées Font de mes yeux des cailloux blancs. Deux cailloux blancs dans mon visage Dans le silence deux muets Ombrés encore d'un secret Et lourds du poids mort des images. Mes doigts tant de fois égarés Sont joints en attitude sainte Appuyés au creux de mes plaintes Au noeud de mon coeur arrêté. Et mes deux pieds sont des montagnes, Les deux derniers monts que j'ai vus À la minute où j'ai perdu La course que les années gagnent. Mon souvenir est ressemblant, Enfants emportez-le bien vite, Allez, allez, ma vie est dite. Mon cadavre est doux comme un gant.
Text Authorship:
- by Louise de Vilmorin (1902 - 1969), "Mon cadavre est doux comme un gant", written 1939, appears in Fiançailles pour rire, no. 3, Paris, Éd. NRF Gallimard, first published 1939
Go to the general single-text view
Please note: this text, provided here for educational and research use, is in the public domain in Canada, but it may still be copyright in other legal jurisdictions. The LiederNet Archive makes no guarantee that the above text is public domain in your country. Please consult your country's copyright statutes or a qualified IP attorney to verify whether a certain text is in the public domain in your country or if downloading or distributing a copy constitutes fair use. The LiederNet Archive assumes no legal responsibility or liability for the copyright compliance of third parties.
My cadaver is soft like a glove Soft like a glove of frozen skin and my erased pupils make white pebbles out of my eyes. Two white pebbles in my face In the silence, two deaf-mutes shadowed still by a secret and heavy with the dead weight of images. My oft-wandering fingers press together in a saintly pose on the hollow of my laments at the knot of my stopped heart. And my two feet are mountains the last hills that I saw in the minute that I lost the race that the years had gained. My memory is life-like, Children, carry it away quickly. Go on, Go on, my life is spoken for. My cadaver is soft like a glove.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2012 by Laura Claycomb, (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 French (Français) by Louise de Vilmorin (1902 - 1969), "Mon cadavre est doux comme un gant", written 1939, appears in Fiançailles pour rire, no. 3, Paris, Éd. NRF Gallimard, first published 1939
Go to the general single-text view
This text was added to the website: 2012-09-24
Line count: 20
Word count: 121
Couple amoureux aux accents méconnus Le violon et son joueur me plaisent. Ah! j'aime ces gémissements tendus Sur la corde des malaises. Aux accords sur les cordes des pendus À l'heure où les Lois se taisent Le coeur en forme de fraise S'offre à l'amour comme un fruit inconnu.
Text Authorship:
- by Louise de Vilmorin (1902 - 1969), "Violon", written 1939, appears in Fiançailles pour rire, no. 30, Paris, Éd. NRF Gallimard, first published 1939
Go to the general single-text view
Please note: this text, provided here for educational and research use, is in the public domain in Canada, but it may still be copyright in other legal jurisdictions. The LiederNet Archive makes no guarantee that the above text is public domain in your country. Please consult your country's copyright statutes or a qualified IP attorney to verify whether a certain text is in the public domain in your country or if downloading or distributing a copy constitutes fair use. The LiederNet Archive assumes no legal responsibility or liability for the copyright compliance of third parties.
Amorous couple of unknown accents, The violin and his player please me. Ah! I love these taut moanings on the chord of malaises. To the chords [played] on the cords of the hanged, in the hour where the Law hushes, the heart, in the form of a strawberry offers itself to love like an unknown fruit.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2012 by Laura Claycomb, (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 French (Français) by Louise de Vilmorin (1902 - 1969), "Violon", written 1939, appears in Fiançailles pour rire, no. 30, Paris, Éd. NRF Gallimard, first published 1939
Go to the general single-text view
Note: the translator allows reprinting without prior permission provided credit is given.This text was added to the website: 2012-09-24
Line count: 8
Word count: 56
Fleurs promises, fleurs tenues dans tes bras, Fleurs sorties des parenthèses d'un pas, Qui t'apportait ces fleurs l'hiver Saupoudrées du sable des mers ? Sable de tes baisers, fleurs des amours fanées Les beaux yeux sont de cendre et dans la cheminée Un coeur en rubanné de plaintes Brûle avec ses images saintes.
Text Authorship:
- by Louise de Vilmorin (1902 - 1969), "Fleurs", written 1939, appears in Fiançailles pour rire, no. 22, Paris, Éd. NRF Gallimard, first published 1939
Go to the general single-text view
Please note: this text, provided here for educational and research use, is in the public domain in Canada, but it may still be copyright in other legal jurisdictions. The LiederNet Archive makes no guarantee that the above text is public domain in your country. Please consult your country's copyright statutes or a qualified IP attorney to verify whether a certain text is in the public domain in your country or if downloading or distributing a copy constitutes fair use. The LiederNet Archive assumes no legal responsibility or liability for the copyright compliance of third parties.
Flowers promised, flowers held in your arms, Flowers issued from the parenthesis of a step, Who brought you these flowers in winter Powdered with the sand of the seas? Sand of your kisses, flowers of withered loves, Beautiful eyes are made of ashes and in the chimney a heart beribboned in complaints burns with its sainted images. Flowers promised, flowers held in your arms, Who brought you these flowers in winter Powdered with the sand of the seas?
Text Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2012 by Laura Claycomb, (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 French (Français) by Louise de Vilmorin (1902 - 1969), "Fleurs", written 1939, appears in Fiançailles pour rire, no. 22, Paris, Éd. NRF Gallimard, first published 1939
Go to the general single-text view
This text was added to the website: 2012-09-24
Line count: 11
Word count: 78