English translations of Three Songs, opus 21
by Amy Marcy Cheney Beach (1867 - 1944)
L'aube naît, et ta porte est close ! Ma belle, pourquoi sommeiller ? À l'heure où s'éveille la rose Ne vas-tu pas te réveiller ? Ô ma charmante, Écoute ici L'amant qui chante Et pleure aussi ! Toute frappe à ta porte bénie. L'aurore dit : Je suis le jour ! L'oiseau dit : Je suis l'harmonie ! Et mon cœur dit : Je suis l'amour! Ô ma charmante, Écoute ici L'amant qui chante Et pleure aussi ! Je t'adore, ange, et t'aime, femme. Dieu qui pour toi m'a complété A fait mon amour par ton âme, Et mon regard pour ta beauté ! Ô ma charmante, Écoute ici L'amant qui chante Et pleure aussi !
Text Authorship:
- by Victor Hugo (1802 - 1885), "Autre chanson", appears in Les Chants du Crépuscule, no. 23
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Dawn begins to come, and your door is closed! My beauty, why are you sleeping? At the hour when the rose is awakening, are you not also going to awaken? Oh my charming one, listen here to the lover who sings and also weeps! Everything knocks at your blessed door. Dawn says, “I am the day!” The bird says, “I am harmony!” And my heart says, “I am love!” Oh my charming one, listen here to the lover who sings and also weeps! I adore you, angel, [and] I love you, woman, God, who made me for you, made my love for your soul, and my gaze for your beauty! Oh my charming one, listen here to the lover who sings and also weeps!
Text Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2016 by John Glenn Paton, (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: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
- a text in French (Français) by Victor Hugo (1802 - 1885), "Autre chanson", appears in Les Chants du Crépuscule, no. 23
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Translation of titles:
"Autre chanson" = "Another song"
"Le crépuscule" = "Dawn"
This text was added to the website: 2016-01-20
Line count: 24
Word count: 124
J'étais seul près des flots, par une nuit d'étoiles. Pas un nuage aux cieux, sur les mers pas de voiles. Mes yeux plongeaient plus loin que le monde réel. Et les bois, et les monts, et toute la nature, Semblaient interroger dans un confus murmure Les flots des mers, les feux du ciel. Et les étoiles d'or, légions infinies, A voix haute, à voix basse, avec mille harmonies, Disaient, en inclinant leurs couronnes de feu ; Et les flots bleus, que rien ne gouverne et n'arrête, Disaient, en recourbant l'écume de leur crête : -- C'est le Seigneur, le Seigneur Dieu !
Text Authorship:
- by Victor Hugo (1802 - 1885), "Extase", written 1828, appears in Les Orientales, no. 37, first published 1829
See other settings of this text.
I was alone, near the waves, in a starlit night, Not a cloud in the skies, on the sea no sails. My eyes dove further than the world, the real world. And the woods, and the mountains, and all of nature Seemed to question in a confused murmuring The waves of the sea, the waves of the sea, the fires of heaven. And the golden stars, infinite legions, In high voice, in low voice, with a thousand harmonies Said, in bending down their crowns of fire, And the blue waves, that nothing governs or stops, Said, in curving the foam of their crests, It is the Lord, the Lord God!
Text Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2005 by Barbara Miller, (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: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
- a text in French (Français) by Victor Hugo (1802 - 1885), "Extase", written 1828, appears in Les Orientales, no. 37, first published 1829
Go to the general single-text view
This text was added to the website: 2005-08-30
Line count: 12
Word count: 110
Le printemps aux mille couleurs, La flamme séduisante à la vive étincelle, Le troëne des champs avec ses blanches fleurs, Aux suaves odeurs, C'est elle! Ah! C'est elle! L'hirondelle qui vole au devant du printemps, Le chevreau qui s'attache au troëne des champs, Ah! Attiré par sa fleur, sa fleur si belle; Le papillon qui sans effroi Au flambeau va brûler son aile, Ah! C'est moi.