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Au clair de lune, Femmes, que lavez-vous Toutes trois à genoux Près de la source brune? Au clair de lune, Femmes, que lavez-vous? Sur cette rive Que tardez-vous ainsi? (Dans le bois obscurci Monte une voix plaintive...) Sur cette rive Que tardez-vous ainsi? Pâles laveuses, Dites-moi votre nom! Quel oeuvre de Démon Font vos mains ténébreuses? Pâles laveuses, Dites-moi votre nom! --Je suis Misère, --Moi je suis Trahison. --Moi, ma blanche maison C'est le froid cimetière. --Je suis Misère, --Moi je suis Trahison. Dites, par grâce, Quel est ce noir lambeau? (Ah! le froid du tombeau Me saisit et me glace!) Dites, par grâce, Quel est ce noir lambeau? Enfant du rêve, Ce lambeau, c'est ton coeur, Dans l'eau de la douleur, Nous le plongeons sans trêve. Enfant du rêve, Ce lambeau, c'est ton coeur!
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):
- by Augusta Mary Anne Holmès (1847 - 1903), "Les lavandières", published 1885? [ voice and piano ], from Vingt Mélodies, no. 14, Paris : H. Tellier [sung text checked 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Iain Sneddon) , "Washerwomen", copyright © 2024, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this page: Andrew Schneider [Guest Editor]
This text was added to the website: 2009-10-20
Line count: 36
Word count: 135
In the moonlight, Women, what do you wash All three of you on your knees Near the brown spring? In the moonlight, Women, what do you wash? On this bank What are you delaying? (In the darkened woods Rises a sorrowful voice...) On this bank What are you delaying? Pale washers, Tell me your name! What a work of the Devil Do your hands make darkness? Pale washers, Tell me your name! "I am Misery,” "Me, I am Treason." "I, my white house, It is the cold graveyard.” "I am Misery,” "I am Treason." Say, for goodness' sake, What is this black rag? (Ah, the chill of the tomb Grabs me and freezes me!) Say, for goodness' sake, What is this black rag? Child of dream, This scrap is your heart, Into the water of pain, We relentlessly dive. Child of dream, This scrap is your heart!
Text Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2024 by Iain Sneddon, (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) from Volkslieder (Folksongs)
This text was added to the website: 2024-02-29
Line count: 36
Word count: 147