Five Chinese Poems

Translations © by Grant Hicks

Song Cycle by Henk Badings (1907 - 1987)

View original-language texts alone: Cinq poèmes chinois

1. Le destin de l'homme
 (Sung text)
Language: French (Français) 
Aux ardeurs de l'été
succèdent les langueurs de l'automne.
Aux champs de neige
succèdent 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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Confirmed with Franz Toussaint, La flûte de jade : poésies chinoises, Paris: H. Piazza, 1920, pages 125-126.


by Franz Toussaint (1879 - 1955)
1. The Destiny of Man
Language: English 
After the heat of Summer
comes the lassitude of Autumn.
After fields of snow
come fields of flowers.
But, whether rising or setting,
the sun is a vast rose!
Death makes of man
a clump of earth where grass may grow.
And I know why our breathing 
is but a perpetual sigh ...

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2026 by Grant Hicks, (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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This text was added to the website: 2026-04-09
Line count: 10
Word count: 52

Translation © by Grant Hicks
2. Evocation
 (Sung text)
Language: French (Français) 
Rapide, ma barque file.
Je contemple le fleuve.
Des nuages errent dans le ciel.
L'eau est aussi de la nuit claire.
Quand un nuage glisse sur la lune,
je le vois glisser aussi sur le fleuve
et il me semble que je vogue en plein ciel.
Je pense à ma bien-aimée,
qui se mire ainsi dans mon cœur.

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by Franz Toussaint (1879 - 1955)
2. Evocation
 (Sung text translation) See original
Language: English 
Swiftly, my boat sails along.
I contemplate the river.
Clouds are roaming in the sky.
The water like the night glistens.
When a cloud glides across the moon,
I see it gliding also across the river 
and I seem to be sailing in midair.
I think about my beloved,
who is likewise mirrored in my heart.

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2026 by Grant Hicks, (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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This text was added to the website: 2026-04-09
Line count: 9
Word count: 56

Translation © by Grant Hicks
3. Le pavillon de porcelaine
 (Sung text)
Language: French (Français) 
Au milieu du lac,
s'élève un pavillon de porcelaine blanche.
Pour y arriver, il faut franchir un petit pont de jade
qui a la courbe d'un tigre à l'affût.
Dans ce minuscule palais, des amis se réunissent.
Ils causent, ils boivent.
Sur l'eau verte, ils regardent onduler
les reflets des pivoines
qui ornent la balustrade de la terrasse.
Certains, les manches retroussées,
la calotte enfoncée jusqu'aux yeux,
écrivent des vers.
L'arc du pont ressemble au croissant de la lune.
Les reflets des pivoines
ressemblent à des jeunes filles qui dansent.

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Confirmed with Franz Toussaint, La flûte de jade, poésies chinoises, Paris, L'édition d'art H. Piazza, 1922, pages 147-148.


by Franz Toussaint (1879 - 1955)
3. The Porcelain Pavilion
Language: English 
In the middle of the lake,
there rises a pavilion of white porcelain.
To get there, one must cross a little bridge of jade
that is arched like a crouching tiger.
In this tiny palace, friends gather.
They converse, they drink,
They watch the undulations on the green water
of the reflections of the peonies
that adorn the balustrades of the terrace.
Some roll up their sleeves,
pull their caps down to their eyes,
and write verses.
The arch of the bridge looks like the crescent moon.
The reflections of the peonies 
look like maidens dancing.

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2026 by Grant Hicks, (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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This text was added to the website: 2026-04-14
Line count: 15
Word count: 96

Translation © by Grant Hicks
4. La mort
 (Sung text)
Language: French (Français) 
Donnez-moi ce luth !
Je veux chanter ma douleur et la tienne,
automne, implacable automne qui ravages la campagne !
Ils m'exaspèrent, ces cygnes dédaigneux,
qui voguent sur l'étang !
Toi, fier arbre d'Aglaja,
où sont tes belles feuilles ?
Dans ce crépuscule sinistre,
tu ressembles à une lyre et tu ne chantes pas !
Moi je chanterai, moi je chanterai la mort libératrice...

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by Franz Toussaint (1879 - 1955)
4. Death
Language: English 
Hand me that lute!
I want to sing of my sorrow and of yours,
Autumn, implacable Autumn, you who ravage the countryside!
They infuriate me, these supercilious swans
who sail on the pond!
You, proud tree of Aglaja,
where is your beautiful foliage?
In this dismal twilight,
you look like a lyre and you do not sing!
I will sing, I will sing of death, the liberator...

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2026 by Grant Hicks, (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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This text was added to the website: 2026-04-15
Line count: 10
Word count: 67

Translation © by Grant Hicks
5. La danse des dieux
 (Sung text)
Language: French (Français) 
J'avais mis toute mon âme dans une chanson
que j'ai chanté aux hommes, et ils ont ri !
j'ai pris mon luth,
je suis allé m'asseoir au sommet d'une montagne
et j'ai chanté, pour les Dieux, la chanson 
que les hommes n'avaient pas comprise.
Le soleil se couchait.
Au rhythme de ma chanson,
les Dieux ont dansé sur les nuages rouges
qui flottaient dans le ciel.

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by Franz Toussaint (1879 - 1955)
5. The Dance of the Gods
Language: English 
I had poured my entire soul into a song
which I sang for men, and they laughed!
I took up my lute,
and went and sat down on a mountaintop 
and sang, for the Gods, the song
that men had not understood.
The sun was setting.
To the rhythm of my song,
the Gods danced upon the red clouds
that were floating in the sky.

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2026 by Grant Hicks, (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.
    Contact: 

Based on:

Based on:

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This text was added to the website: 2026-04-14
Line count: 10
Word count: 66

Translation © by Grant Hicks