La prière du mort
Language: French (Français)
Our translations: ENG GER
Arrête! Écoute-moi, voyageur. Si tes pas
Te portent vers Cypsèle ou les rives de l'Hèbre,
Cherche le vieil Hyllos et dis-lui qu'il célèbre
Un long deuil pour le fils qu'il ne reverra pas.
Ma chair assassinée a servi de repas
Aux loups. Le reste gît en ce hallier funèbre.
Et l'Ombre errante, aux bords que l'Érèbe enténèbre
S'indigne et pleure. Nul n'a vengé mon trépas.
Pars donc. Et si jamais, à l'heure où le jour tombe,
Tu rencontres au pied d'un tertre ou d'une tombe
Une femme au front blanc que voile un noir lambeau;
Approche-toi, ne crains ni la nuit ni les charmes;
C'est ma mère, Étranger, qui sur un vain tombeau
Embrasse une urne vide et l'emplit de ses larmes.
First published in Revue des deux mondes, May 15, 1890.
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):
- ENG English (Faith J. Cormier) , "The Dead Man's Prayer", copyright © 2004, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- GER German (Deutsch) (Bertram Kottmann) , "Gebet des Toten", copyright © 2004, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this page: Faith J. Cormier
This text was added to the website: 2004-12-15
Line count: 14
Word count: 122
The Dead Man's Prayer
Language: English after the French (Français)
Stop! Listen to me, traveler. If your steps
take you to Cypselus or the shores of the Hebron,
look for old Hyllos and tell him to mourn long
for the son he will never see again.
My murdered flesh was a feast
for the wolves. The rest lies in this funereal thicket.
And the wandering shade, on the shores shadowed by Erebus,
weeps in anger. No one has avenged my death.
Go, then, and if ever, as night falls, you meet
at the foot of a mound or tomb a woman
whose pale brow is veiled in black,
draw near to her, fearing neither night nor magic.
It is my mother, stranger, who embraces an empty urn
on a vain tomb and fills it with her tears.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2004 by Faith J. Cormier, (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:
This text was added to the website: 2004-12-15
Line count: 14
Word count: 127
