Music of whispering trees
Hushed by a broad-winged breeze
Where shaken water gleams;
And evening radiance falling
With reedy bird-notes calling.
O bear me safe through dark, you low-voiced streams.
I have no need to pray
That fear may pass away;
I scorn the growl and rumble of the fight
That summons me from cool
Silence of marsh and pool
And yellow lilies is landed in light
O river of stars and shadows, lead me through the night.
Please note: this text, provided here for educational and research use, is in the public domain in Canada and the U.S., 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.
Confirmed with Siegfried Sassoon, THE OLD HUNTSMAN and other poems, William Heinemann, London, 1918, page 75
Text 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):
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "Avant la bataille", copyright © 2017, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Research team for this page: Emily Ezust
[Administrator] , Pierre Mathé
[Guest Editor] This text was added to the website: 2008-10-19
Line count: 13
Word count: 78
Musique des arbres murmurant
Tamisée par les larges ailes de la brise,
Là miroite une eau agitée ;
Et clarté du soir qui tombe
Avec les notes flûtées d'un oiseau qui appelle.
Ô voix basses, faites-moi passer dans le noir sain et sauf.
Je n'ai pas besoin de prier
Que cette peur puisse disparaître ;
Je méprise le grondement et le bourdonnement de la bataille
Qui m'appelle depuis le frais silence
Du marécage et de l'étang
Et des nénuphars jaunes isolés sous la lumière
Ô rivière d'étoiles et d'ombres, mène-moi au bout de la nuit.
