Aux ardeurs de l'été succèdent les langueurs de l'automne. Aux champs de neige succedent les champs des fleurs. Mais qu'il se lève ou qu'il se couche, le soleil est une grande rose. La mort fait de l'homme une motte de terre sur laquelle pousse l'herbe. Et je sais pourquoi notre respiration n'est qu'un perpétuel soupir.
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Text Authorship:
- by Franz Toussaint (1879 - 1955) [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 Henk Badings (1907 - 1987), "Le destin de l'homme", 1973 [ mixed chorus ], from Cinq poèmes chinois, no. 1 [sung text checked 1 time]
Researcher for this page: Joost van der Linden [Guest Editor]
This text was added to the website: 2024-11-06
Line count: 10
Word count: 55