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Terre, ouvre moy ton sein, et me laisse reprendre Mon thresor, que la Parque a caché dessous toy: Ou bien si tu ne peux, ô terre, cache moy Sous mesme sepulture avec sa belle cendre. Le traict qui la tua, devoit faire descendre Mon corps aupres du sien pour finir mon esmoy: Aussi bien, veu le mal qu'en sa mort je reçoy, Je ne sçaurois plus vivre, et me fasche d'attendre. Quand ses yeux m'esclairoient, et qu'en terre j'avois Le bon-heur de les voir, à l'heure je vivois, Ayant de leurs rayons mon ame gouvernée. Maintenant je suis mort: la Mort qui s'en-alla Loger dedans ses yeux, en partant m'appella, Et me fit de ses pieds accomplir ma journée.
About the headline (FAQ)
Text Authorship:
- by Pierre de Ronsard (1524 - 1585), no title, written 1578, appears in Sur la mort de Marie, no. 3, first published 1578 [author's text checked 1 time 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 Albert Groz , "Terre, ouvre-moi ton sein", op. 8 no. 6, published [1910] [ high voice and piano ], from Les Amours de Marie, no. 6, Paris, Éd. Rouart, Lerolle & Cie. [sung text not yet checked]
- by Emanuel Moór (1863 - 1931), "Terre, ouvre moi", op. 88a no. 4 [ voice and piano ], from Premier Recueil de Mélodies, no. 4 [sung text not yet checked]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (David Wyatt) , "Earth, open for me", copyright © 2012, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2011-09-06
Line count: 14
Word count: 119
Earth, open your breast for me, and let me take back My treasure, which Fate hid beneath you: Or if you cannot, o earth, hide me Beneath the same monument with her fair ashes. The blow which killed her ought to have brought down My body beside hers, to end my anguish; No longer, given the hurt which I receive from her death, Can I live, and I am frustrated by waiting. When her eyes flashed at me and I had the good fortune To see them on this earth, then I was alive, My soul steered by their sweet glance. But now, I am dead: Death, which has gone To live in her eyes, called me as he left And made me complete my journey at her feet.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2012 by David Wyatt, (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 Pierre de Ronsard (1524 - 1585), no title, written 1578, appears in Sur la mort de Marie, no. 3, first published 1578
This text was added to the website: 2012-07-26
Line count: 14
Word count: 129