by Victor Hugo (1802 - 1885)
Translation © by Amy Pfrimmer

Je ne songeais pas à Rose
Language: French (Français) 
Our translations:  ENG
Je ne [songeais]1 pas à Rose ;
Rose au bois vint avec moi ;
Nous parlions de quelque chose,
Mais je ne sais plus de quoi.

J'étais froid comme les marbres ;
Je marchais à pas distraits ; 
J'ai parlais des fleurs, des arbres ;
Son œil semblait dire : «Après ?»

La rosée offrait ses perles,
Le taillis ses parasols ;
J'allais ; j'écoutais les merles,
Et Rose les rossignols.

Moi, seize ans, et l'air morose,
Elle, vingt ; ses yeux brillaient,
Les rossignols chantaient Rose
Et les merles me sifflaient,

Rose droite sur ses hanches,
Leva son beau bras tremblant
Pour prendre une mûre aux branches ;
Je ne vis pas son bras blanc.

Une eau courait, fraîche et creuse,
Sur les mousses de velours ;
Et la nature amoureuse
Dormait dans les grands bois sourds.

Rose défit sa chaussure,
Et mit, d'un air ingénu,
Son petit pied dans l'eau pure ;
Je ne vis pas son pied nu.

Je ne savais que lui dire ;
Je la suivais dans les bois,
La voyant parfois sourire
Et soupirer quelquefois.

Je ne vis qu'elle était belle
Qu'en sortant des grands bois sourds.
« Soit, n'y pensons plus !» dit-elle.
Depuis j'y pense toujours.

Available sung texts: (what is this?)

•   L. Delibes •   F. d'Erlanger •   N. Reber •   L. Rey 

F. d'Erlanger sets stanzas 1, 6-9
N. Reber sets stanzas 1-4, 8-9

About the headline (FAQ)

View original text (without footnotes)
1 Reyer, Delibes: "pensais"

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):

Settings in other languages, adaptations, or excerpts:

Other available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Amy Pfrimmer) , copyright © 2023, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 36
Word count: 192

I was not thinking of Rose
Language: English  after the French (Français) 
I was not thinking of Rose; 
Rose came with me into the woods;
We were talking about something, 
but I do not know what.

I was cold as marble; I walked 
with distracted steps;
I spoke of flowers, of trees; 
Her eye seemed to say, “After?”

The dew offered its pearls, 
the copse its parasols.
I was going; I listened to the blackbirds, 
and Rose to the nightingales.

I, sixteen years old, and with a morose manner, 
she, twenty; her eyes shone,
The nightingales sang to Rose, 
and the blackbirds whistled at me,

Rose straightened her hips, 
raised her beautiful trembling arm
To take a blackberry from the branches; 
I did not see her white arm.

A stream ran, cool and hollow, 
on velvet moss;
And amorous nature slept 
in the great silent woods.

Rose unfastened her shoe, 
and put, with a simple air,
Her little foot in the pure water; 
I did not see her bare foot.

I did not know what to say to her; 
I followed her in the woods,
She smiled from time to time 
and sometimes sighed.

I only saw that she was beautiful only 
when leaving the great silent forest.
"So, let us not think about it anymore!" she said. 
Since then, I always think about it.

About the headline (FAQ)

Translation of title "Vieille chanson du jeune temps" = "Old Song of Youth"

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2023 by Amy Pfrimmer, (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: 2023-06-05
Line count: 36
Word count: 213