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Dites-moi pastourelle, Quel est ce vieux château Dont la sombre tourelle Domine le hameau? C’est celui d’une belle En proie à la douleur, Car pour la pauvre Adèle Il n’est plus de bonheur. Dites-moi pastourelle, A-t-on trahi sa foi? Las! Son amant fidèle Est mort servant son Roi: Cette affreuse nouvelle A dechiré son coeur, Et pout la pauvre Adèle Il n’est plus de bonheur. Épris de son image, Touché de son chagrin, Prince de haut parage A demandé sa main; Hélas! lui répont-elle, Vous m’honorez, Seigneur, Mais pour la pauvre Adèle Il n’est plus de bonheur. Quand notre âme est blessée D’un trait si douloureux, Une triste pensée Convient seule à nos voeux: Il faut vivre avec elle, Ou mourir de douleur, Et pour la pauvre Adèle Il n’est plus de bonheur.
Text Authorship:
- by Anonymous / Unidentified Author [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 (Joseph François) Narcisse Carbonel (1773 - 1855), "La pauvre Adèle", published 1816 [voice and lyre or guitar], Paris, Bureau du Journal de Guitare chez Meissonnier, rue Montmartre No. 182 au coin du Boulevard; in the Journal de Lyre ou Guitare, 6e Année, no. 97 [text verified 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ITA Italian (Italiano) (Antonio Zencovich) , title 1: "La povera Adele", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this page: Antonio Zencovich
This text was added to the website: 2014-07-28
Line count: 32
Word count: 133
Ditemi, pastorella Di chi è quel vecchio castello La cui torretta scura Domina sul villaggio? Appartiene a una bella In preda al dolore, Poiché per la povera Adele La gioia non c’è più. Ditemi pastorella, Qualcuno ha tradito il suo onore? Oh no! Il suo amante fedele È morto servendo il Re: Questa tremenda notizia Ha straziato il suo cuore, E per la povera Adele La gioia non c’è più. Attratto dalla sua immagine, Toccato da tanta pena, Un principe d’alto lignaggio Ha chiesto la sua mano: Ahimè! lei gli risponde Voi mi onorate, Signore, Ma per la povera Adele La gioia non c’è più. Quando l’anima è ferita Da un colpo così doloroso, Solo un triste pensiero Conviene ai nostri desideri: Con quello bisogna vivere, O morire di tormento, E per la povera Adele La gioia non c’è più.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to Italian (Italiano) copyright © 2014 by Antonio Zencovich, (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 French (Français) by Anonymous/Unidentified Artist
This text was added to the website: 2014-07-28
Line count: 32
Word count: 140
