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Four French Songs
Song Cycle by (Edward) Benjamin Britten (1913 - 1976)
View original-language texts alone: Quatre chansons françaises
L'été, lorsque le jour a fui, de fleurs couverte La plaine verse au loin un parfum enivrant ; Les yeux fermés, l'oreille aux rumeurs entr'ouverte, On ne dort qu'à demi d'un sommeil transparent. Les astres sont plus purs, l'ombre paraît meilleure ; Un vague demi-jour teint le dôme éternel ; Et l'aube, douce et pâle, en attendant son heure, Semble toute la nuit errer au bas du ciel.
Text Authorship:
- by Victor Hugo (1802 - 1885), "Nuits de juin", appears in Les Rayons et les Ombres, no. 43, first published 1840
See other settings of this text.
In summer, when day is done, from the flower-covered meadow in the distance pours an intoxicating scent. With eyes shut, ears half-open to murmurs, One could sleep only in a limpid slumber. The stars are pure, the darkness appears better; some sort of half-light tinges the eternal dome; And the dawn, gentle and pale, biding its time, Seems to wander all night at the foot of the heavens.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © by David K. Smythe, (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), "Nuits de juin", appears in Les Rayons et les Ombres, no. 43, first published 1840
Go to the general single-text view
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 8
Word count: 68
Le ciel est, par-dessus le toit, Si bleu, si calme ! Un arbre, par-dessus le toit, Berce sa palme. La cloche, dans le ciel qu'on voit, Doucement tinte. Un oiseau sur l'arbre qu'on voit Chante sa plainte. Mon Dieu, mon Dieu, la vie est là Simple et tranquille. Cette paisible rumeur-là Vient de la ville. Qu'as-tu fait, ô toi que voilà Pleurant sans cesse, Dis, qu'as-tu fait, toi que voilà, De ta jeunesse ?
Text Authorship:
- by Paul Verlaine (1844 - 1896), no title, written 1880, appears in Sagesse, in Sagesse III, no. 6, Paris, Société générale de Librairie Catholique, first published 1881
See other settings of this text.
Over the roof, the sky is So blue, so calm! Above the roof, a tree Waves its foliage. In the sky one can see the bell Softly ringing. On the tree one can see a bird Singing its lament. My God, my God, life is there, Simple and tranquil. This peaceful rumor there Comes from the town. What have you done, o you there, Weeping without end, Tell me, what have you done, you there, With your youth?
Text Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2016 by Emily Ezust
Emily Ezust permits her translations to be reproduced without prior permission for printed (not online) programs to free-admission concerts only, provided the following credit is given:
Translation copyright © by Emily Ezust,
from the LiederNet ArchiveFor any other purpose, please write to the e-mail address below to request permission and discuss possible fees.
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Based on:
- a text in French (Français) by Paul Verlaine (1844 - 1896), no title, written 1880, appears in Sagesse, in Sagesse III, no. 6, Paris, Société générale de Librairie Catholique, first published 1881
Go to the general single-text view
This text was added to the website: 2016-03-05
Line count: 16
Word count: 78
L'enfant chantait; la mère au lit, exténuée, Agonisait, beau front dans l'ombre se penchant ; La mort au-dessus d'elle errait dans la nuée ; Et j'écoutais ce râle, et j'entendais ce chant. L'enfant avait cinq ans, et près de la fenêtre Ses rires et ses jeux faisaient un charmant bruit ; Et la mère, à côté de ce pauvre doux être Qui chantait tout le jour, toussait toute la nuit. La mère alla dormir sous les dalles du cloître ; Et le petit enfant se remit à chanter... La douleur est un fruit ; Dieu ne le fait pas croître Sur la branche trop faible encor pour le porter.
Text Authorship:
- by Victor Hugo (1802 - 1885), "L'Enfance", written 1835, appears in Les Contemplations, in 1. Livre premier -- Aurore, no. 23
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The child was singing, the mother, stretched out on the bed, Was dying, her beautiful forehead looking into the shadow; Above her Death roamed about in the dense cloud; And I listened to that groan, and I heard that song. The child was five years old, and near the window Her laughter and her games made an enchanting noise; And the mother, beside the sweet little being Who sang all day, coughed all night. The mother was laid to rest beneath the flagstones of the cloister; And the little child returned to singing ... Sorrow is a fruit; God does not let it grow On a branch too weak to bear it.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © by David K. Smythe, (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), "L'Enfance", written 1835, appears in Les Contemplations, in 1. Livre premier -- Aurore, no. 23
Go to the general single-text view
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 12
Word count: 111
Les sanglots longs Des violons De l'automne Blessent mon cœur D'une langueur Monotone. Tout suffocant Et blême, quand Sonne l'heure, Je me souviens Des jours anciens Et je pleure ; Et je m'en vais Au vent mauvais Qui m'emporte Deçà, delà, Pareil à la Feuille morte.
Text Authorship:
- by Paul Verlaine (1844 - 1896), "Chanson d'automne", appears in Poèmes saturniens, in 3. Paysages tristes, no. 5, Paris, Alphonse Lemerre, first published 1866
See other settings of this text.
The long sobs of autumn's violins wound my heart with a monotonous languor. Suffocating and pallid, when the clock strikes, I remember the days long past and I weep. And I set off in the rough wind that carries me hither and thither like a dead leaf.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2000 by Peter Low, (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 Paul Verlaine (1844 - 1896), "Chanson d'automne", appears in Poèmes saturniens, in 3. Paysages tristes, no. 5, Paris, Alphonse Lemerre, first published 1866
Go to the general single-text view
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 18
Word count: 47