by Charles Cros (1842 - 1888)
Translation © by Peter Low

L'Archet
Language: French (Français) 
Our translations:  ENG
Elle avait de beaux cheveux, blonds
Comme une moisson d'août, si longs
Qu'ils lui tombaient jusqu'aux talons.

Elle avait une voix étrange,
Musicale, de fée ou d'ange,
Des yeux verts sous leur noire frange.

Lui, ne craignait pas de rival,
Quand il traversait mont ou val,
En l'emportant sur son cheval.

Car, pour tous ceux de la contrée,
Altière elle s'était montrée,
Jusqu'au jour où il l'eut rencontrée.

L'amour la prit si fort au cœur,
Que pour un sourire moqueur,
Il lui vint un mal de langueur.

Et dans ses dernières caresses:
Fais un archet avec mes tresses,
Pour charmer tes autres maîtresses.

Puis, dans un long baiser nerveux,
Elle mourut. Suivant ses vœux,
Il fit l'archet de ses cheveux.

Comme un aveugle qui marmonne,
Sur un violon de Crémone
Il jouait, demandant l'aumône.

Tous avaient d'enivrants frissons
A l'écouter. Car dans ses sons
Vivaient la morte et ses chansons.

Le roi, charmé, fit sa fortune.
Lui, sut plaire à la reine brune
Et l'enlever au clair de lune.

Mais chaque fois qu'il y touchait
Pour plaire à la reine, l'archet
Tristement le lui reprochait.

Au son du funèbre langage,
Ils moururent à mi-voyage.
Et la morte reprit son gage.

Elle reprit ses cheveux blonds
Comme une moisson d'août, si longs
Qu'ils lui tombaient jusqu'aux talons.

Available sung texts: (what is this?)

•   C. Debussy 

C. Debussy sets stanzas 1-7

First published in the revue La Parodie (September, 1869), with music by Ernest Cabaner.


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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 (Peter Low) , "The Violin Bow", copyright © 2022, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2011-04-28
Line count: 39
Word count: 216

The Violin Bow
Language: English  after the French (Français) 
She had beautiful hair, as blond
as a harvest in August, and so long
that it hung right down to her heels.

She had a strange and musical
voice - a fairy's or an angel's -
and green eyes under their dark fringe.

As for him, he feared no rival
as he rode across hills or valleys,
carrying her on his horse.

For in everyone's view in that region 
she had appeared haughty
until the day he had met her.

Love gripped her heart so strongly
that a single mocking smile
provoked in her a painful languor.

And she said, in his final caresses:
"Make a bow of my tresses
to charm your other mistresses."

Then in a long nervous kiss,
she died. As he had vowed
he made the bow from her hair.

Like a blind man who fiddles
on a Cremona violin,
he would play, busking for coins.

Everyone listening to him felt
intoxicating shivers. For in his sounds
the dead woman and her songs lived again.

The king, charmed, gave the man a fortune.
He touched the heart of the dark-haired queen
and abducted her by moonlight.

But every time he played the violin
to please the queen, the bow
would sadly reproach him.

To the sound of that funereal language
they died without finishing their trip.
And the dead one reclaimed her pledge,

she took it back, her hair as blond
as a harvest in August, and so long
that it hung right down to her heels.

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2022 by Peter Low, (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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This text was added to the website: 2022-08-24
Line count: 39
Word count: 249