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by Charles-Albert Costa de Beauregard (1835 - 1909)
Translation © by Jean-Pierre Granger

Il en est de l'amour
Language: French (Français) 
Our translations:  ENG
Il en est de l'amour
comme de tant de choses charmantes à leur printemps,
nobles et belles seulement à leur automne.
On s'aime à vingt ans comme les oiseaux de mai,
qui, par delà leur nid et leurs gazouillements, ne savent rien ;
mais, après, vient la brise qui emporte le nid
et la chanson d'amour :
de ce qu'elle disait, l'écho ne se souvient pas.
Il nous faudrait mourir alors,
si nous étions de la terre,
si, à ces destructions,
ne survivaient les tendresses de l'âme,
immortelles comme l'âme elle-même.

Il en est de l'amour
comme de tant de choses charmantes à leur printemps.

About the headline (FAQ)

Text Authorship:

  • by Charles-Albert Costa de Beauregard (1835 - 1909), no title, appears in Un homme d'autrefois. Souvenirs recueillis par son arrière-petit-fils le Marquis Costa de Beauregard, Paris, Éd. Plon & Cie, from chapter 90, "Beauregard (1796)", p. 372, first published 1878 [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 Isaac Albéniz (1860 - 1909), "Il en est de l'amour", 1897, published 1897 [voice and piano], Paris, T. Cée [
     text verified 1 time
    ]

Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Jean-Pierre Granger) , title 1: "Love is like so many lovely things", copyright © 2009, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this page: Jean-Pierre Granger

This text was added to the website: 2009-11-19
Line count: 15
Word count: 103

Love is like so many lovely things
Language: English  after the French (Français) 
Love is like so many lovely things 
at the beginning of their life,
noble and beautiful only at the autumn of their life.
At twenty, we love each other like birds in may
who know nothing beside their nest and their songs;
but then comes the wind that sweeps away the nest
and the love song:
The echo doesn't even remember what it said.
It would be better for us then to die,
if we were from the earth,
if, out of these destructions,
the tenderness of the soul didn't survive,
immortal like the soul itself.

Love is like so many lovely things
at the beginning of their life.

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2009 by Jean-Pierre Granger.

    This author's work falls under the CC BY-SA 2.0 license.


    Jean-Pierre Granger. We have no current contact information for the copyright-holder.
    If you wish to commission a new translation, please contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net

Based on:

  • a text in French (Français) by Charles-Albert Costa de Beauregard (1835 - 1909), no title, appears in Un homme d'autrefois. Souvenirs recueillis par son arrière-petit-fils le Marquis Costa de Beauregard, Paris, Éd. Plon & Cie, from chapter 90, "Beauregard (1796)", p. 372, first published 1878
    • Go to the text page.

 

This text was added to the website: 2009-11-19
Line count: 15
Word count: 109

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–Emily Ezust, Founder

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