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Ô colère, ô jalousie, Sorcières aux doigts crochus, À la figure roussie, Anges des amours déchus, J'ai pénétré dans votre antre Pour savoir la vérité. Le coeur malade on y entre, On en sort le coeur gâté. Vous m'avez dans votre filtre Et votre noir alambic Distillé l'horrible philtre Qui me mord comme un aspic. Dans votre infernale forge Dont la haine est le marteau, Votre patte a pour ma gorge Forgé le fil d'un couteau. Et c'est avec votre lame, C'est avec votre liqueur, Que j'ai meurtri ma pauvre âme Et soûlé mon pauvre coeur. Sorcières de la caverne, Ô gueuses, je vous maudis. Vous avez fait un Averne De mon divin paradis.
Text Authorship:
- by Jean Richepin (1849 - 1926), "Les sorcières", written 1877, appears in Les Caresses, in 3. Brumaire, no. 27, Paris, Éd. M. Dreyfous, first published 1882 [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 Louis Vierne (1870 - 1937), "Les sorcières", op. 48, Heft 3 (Brumaire) no. 2 (1924), published 1927 [ high voice and piano ], from Le poème de l'amour, no. 9, Éd. Henry Lemoine [sung text checked 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Corinne Orde) , "The witches", copyright © 2007, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- ITA Italian (Italiano) (Francesco Campanella) , "Le streghe", copyright © 2013, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this page: Corinne Orde
This text was added to the website: 2007-11-23
Line count: 24
Word count: 114
O anger, o jealousy, Witches with clawed fingers And red singed faces, Angels of neglected loves, I penetrated your lair To know the truth. Sick at heart, one enters, And leaves with wounded heart. In your filter And your black still You distilled for me the horrible philtre That bites me like an asp. In your infernal forge, Where hatred is the hammer, Your paw forged for my throat The cutting edge of a knife. And it is with your blade, It is with your liquor, That I have bruised my poor soul And inebriated my poor heart. Witches of the cavern, O hussies, I curse you. You have made an Avernus Out of my divine paradise.
Note for the final stanza: Avernus: ancient name for a crater near Cumae, Italy. In the Aeneid of Virgil, it is the entrance to the underworld.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2007 by Corinne Orde, (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 Jean Richepin (1849 - 1926), "Les sorcières", written 1877, appears in Les Caresses, in 3. Brumaire, no. 27, Paris, Éd. M. Dreyfous, first published 1882
This text was added to the website: 2007-11-23
Line count: 24
Word count: 117