Exotic Poems

Translations © by Grant Hicks

Song Cycle by René Bernier (1905 - 1984)

View original-language texts alone: Poèmes exotiques

1. Evocation  [sung text not yet checked]
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]1 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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Confirmed with Franz Toussaint, La flûte de jade : poésies chinoises, Paris: H. Piazza, 1920, pages 129-130.

1 Badings: "glisser aussi"

by Franz Toussaint (1879 - 1955)
1. Evocation
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 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
2. Dialogue dans la nuit  [sung text not yet checked]
Language: French (Français) 
Un soir que je respirais le parfum des fleurs 
au bord de la rivière,
le vent m'apporta la chanson d'une flûte lointaine.
Pour lui répondre, je coupai une branche de saule,
et la chanson de ma flûte berça la nuit charmée.
Depuis ce soir-là, tous les jours, 
à l'heure où la campagne s'endort,
les oiseaux entendent se répondre
deux oiseaux inconnus,
dont ils comprennent cependant le langage.

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Confirmed with Franz Toussaint, La flûte de jade : poésies chinoises, Paris: H. Piazza, 1920, pages 63-64.


by Franz Toussaint (1879 - 1955)
2. Dialogue in the Night
Language: English 
One evening when I was breathing the scent of the flowers
on the riverbank,
the wind carried to me the song of a distant flute.
To answer it, I cut a willow branch,
and the song of my flute lulled the enchanted night.
Since that evening, every day,
at the hour when the countryside falls asleep,
the birds hear calling back and forth 
two birds they do not know,
but whose language they still understand.

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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Translations of titles:
"Dialogue dans la nuit" = "Dialogue in the Night"
"Les 2 flûtes" = "The 2 Flutes"
"Les deux flûtes" = "The Two Flutes"


This text was added to the website: 2026-04-14
Line count: 10
Word count: 75

Translation © by Grant Hicks
3. La Mosquee  [sung text not yet checked]
Language: French (Français) 
Je me rappelle ce matin de Damas 
et le silence du jardin où tu sommeillais. 
L'ombre de ton cou était bleue. 
Tes seins se soulevaient et s'abaissaient
avec un rythme de source. 
Tes bras, à l'abandon,
étaient deux ruisseaux d'argent sur l'herbe,
et des papillons se posaient sur tes ongles, 
les prenant pour des roses. 
A ce moment, dans les Jardins du Paradis,
mon père contemplait-il des vierges plus splendides ?
Je me suis étendu près de toi, 
comme un mendiant près d'une mosquée.

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Confirmed with Franz Toussaint, Le Jardin des Caresses, 73e édition, Paris : L'édition d'art H. Piazza, 1921, p.78


by Franz Toussaint (1879 - 1955)
3.
Language: English 
I remember that morning in Damascus 
and the silence of the garden where you were sleeping. 
The shadow of your neck was blue. 
Your breasts rose and fell
with the rhythm of a wellspring. 
Your careless arms
were two rivulets of silver on the grass,
and butterflies alit on your nails, 
mistaking them for roses. 
At that moment, in the Gardens of Paradise, 
was my father gazing at virgins any more magnificent? 
I lay down next to you, 
like a beggar next to a mosque.

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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Translations of titles:
"La mosquée" = "The Mosque"
"Sommeil" = "Sleep"


This text was added to the website: 2026-02-24
Line count: 13
Word count: 85

Translation © by Grant Hicks