Songs of Bilitis

Song Cycle by Charles Koechlin (1867 - 1950)

View original-language texts alone: Chansons de Bilitis

1. Hymne à Astarté
 (Sung text)
Language: French (Français) 
Mère inépuisable, incorruptible, créatrice, 
née la première, engendrée par toi-même, 
conçue de toi-même, issue de toi seule 
et qui te réjouis en toi, Astarté !

Ô perpétuellement fécondée, 
ô vierge et nourrice de tout, chaste et désireuse,
pure et jouissante, ineffable, nocturne, douce, 
respiratrice du feu, écume de la mer !

Toi qui accordes en secret la grâce, 
toi qui unis, toi qui aimes, toi qui saisis 
d'un furieux désir les races multipliées 
des bêtes sauvages, et joins les sexes dans les forêts.

Ô Astarté irrésistible, soit que tu imposes la douleur,
soit que tu delivres dans la joie, entends-moi,
prends-moi, arrache de mon corps bienheureux 
les libations sanglantes !

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by Pierre-Félix Louis (1870 - 1925), as Pierre Louÿs
1. Hymn to Astarte
Language: English 
Mother inexhaustible, incorruptible, crea-
tress, born thy first, engendered by thyself and
by thyself conceived, issue of thyself alone and
seeking joy within thyself, Astarte!

Oh perpetually fecund, virgin
and nurse of all, chaste and desirous, pure
and reveling, ineffable, nocturnal, sweet,
breather of fire, foam of the sea!

You who accordest grace in secret, you
who unite, you who love, you who seize with
furious desire the multiplied races of savage
beasts and couple the sexes in the woods.

Oh, irresistible Astarte! so be it that you impose sadness,
so be it that you deliver joy, hear me,
take me, take from my blissful body the bloody libations!

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © by Sarah Daughtrey, (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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Note: this is a translation of Koechlin's version.



This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 15
Word count: 109

Translation © by Sarah Daughtrey
2. Pluie au matin
 (Sung text)
Language: French (Français) 
La nuit s'éfface. Les étoiles s'éloignent.
Voici que les dernières courtisanes 
sont rentrées avec les amants. 
Et moi, dans la pluie du matin, 
j'écris ces vers sur le sable.

Les feuilles sont chargées d'eau brillante. 
Des ruisseaux à travers les sentiers
entraînent la terre et les feuilles mortes.
La pluie, goutte à goutte, 
fait des trous dans ma chanson.

Oh! que je suis triste et seule ici! 
Les plus jeunes ne me regardent pas; 
et les plus âgés m'oublient.
C'est bien. Ils apprendront mes vers, 
et les enfants de leurs enfants.

Voilà ce que ni Myrtalê, ni Thaïs, 
ni Glykére ne se diront, 
le jour où leurs belles joues seront creuses.  
Ceux qui aimeront après moi 
chanteront mes strophes ensemble.

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by Pierre-Félix Louis (1870 - 1925), as Pierre Louÿs
2. Morning rain
Language: English 
The night is fading.  The stars are far away.
Now the last courtesans 
have all gone home with their lovers.  
And I, in the morning rain, 
I write these verses on the sand.

The leaves are loaded down with shining water.
The streams that go across
carry earth and dead leaves.
The rain, drop by drop, 
makes holes in my song.

Oh! how sad and lonely I am here!
The youngest do not look at me; 
and the oldest forget me. 
But all will know my verses, 
and the children of their children.

Here is something neither Myrtale, nor Thais, 
nor Glykera will say, 
the day their lovely cheeks grow saggy with age.
Those who will love after me 
will sing my songs together.

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © by Sarah Daughtrey, (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 between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 20
Word count: 124

Translation © by Sarah Daughtrey
3. Chant funèbre
 (Sung text)
Language: French (Français) 
Chantez un chant funèbre, muses Mytiléniennes, chantez!  
La terre est sombre comme un vêtement de deuil 
et les arbres jaunes frissonnent comme des chevelures coupées.

Héraïos! ô mois triste et doux! les feuilles tombent
tombent, neige dorée 
le soleil est plus pénétrant 
dans la forêt éclaircie... 
Je n'entends plus rien que le silence.

Voici qu'on a porté au tombeau Pittakos chargé d'années.
Beaucoup sont morts, que j'ai connus. Et celle qui vit 
est pour moi comme si elle n'etait plus.

 ... 
Il est temps aussi que je disparaisse. 
Pleurez avec moi, muses Mytiléniennes, pleurez  ... !

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by Pierre-Félix Louis (1870 - 1925), as Pierre Louÿs
3. Funeral song
Language: English 
Sing a funeral song, Mytilenian muses, sing! 
The earth is dark like a mourning cloak
and the yellow trees tremble like shorn tresses.

Heraios! oh sad and gentle month! the leaves fall, 
snow gilded, 
the sun is more penetrating 
in the forest clearing... 
I hear no longer anything but silence.

Here one carried to his tomb Pittakos, down with years.  
Many are dead, that I knew. 
And she who lives is, to me, like she who is no more.



It is time also for me to disappear
Weep with me, Mytilenian muses, weep!

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © by Sarah Daughtrey, (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 between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 13
Word count: 93

Translation © by Sarah Daughtrey
4. Hymne à la nuit
 (Sung text)
Language: French (Français) 
Les masses noires des arbres 
ne bougent pas plus que des montagnes.
Les étoiles emplissent un ciel immense.  
Un air chaud comme un souffle humain caresse
mes yeux et mes joues.

Ô Nuit qui enfantas les Dieux! 
comme tu es douce sur mes lèvres! 
comme tu es chaude dans me cheveux! 
comme tu entres en moi ce soir, 
et comme je me sens grosse de tout ton printemps!

Les fleurs qui vont fleurir cette nuit vont toutes
naitre de moi.  Le vent qui respire est mon haleine. 
Le parfum qui passe est mon désir. 
Toutes les étoiles sont dans mes yeux.

Ta voix, est-ce le bruit de la mer, 
est-ce le silence de la plaine? 
Ta voix, je ne la comprends pas, 
mais elle me jette la tête aux pieds 
et mes larmes lavent mes deux mains.

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by Pierre-Félix Louis (1870 - 1925), as Pierre Louÿs
4. Hymn to the night
Language: English 
The black masses of the trees 
move no more than do the mountains.  
The stars are crowded in an immense sky.
A breeze warm as a human breath caresses
my cheeks and my eyes.

Oh Night who gave birth  to the Gods! 
how sweet you are upon my lips!
how warm you are in my hair! 
how you enter into me this night, 
and I how I feel large with all your spring!

The flowers which are going to bloom will be
born of me.  The wind which breathes is my breath. 
The perfume which wafts is my desire.
All the stars are in my eyes.

Your voice, is it the noise of the sea, 
or is is the silence of the plain?  
Your voice, I do not  understand it, 
but it dizzies me,
and my tears bathe my two hands.

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © by Sarah Daughtrey, (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 between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 19
Word count: 141

Translation © by Sarah Daughtrey
5. Dernière épitaphe
 (Sung text)
Language: French (Français) 
Sous les feuilles noires des lauriers,
sous les fleurs amoureuses des roses, 
c'est ici que je suis couchée, 
moi qui sus tresser le vers au vers, 
et faire fleurir le baiser.

Je suis née dans la terre des nymphes;
j'ai vécu dans l'île des amies; 
je suis morte dans l'île de Kypris. 
C'est pourquoi mon nom est illustre 
et ma stèle frottée d'huile.

Ne me pleure pas, toi qui t'arrêtes:
on m'a fait de belles funérailles: 
les pleureuses se sont arraché les joues; 
on a couché dans ma tombe mes miroirs et mes colliers.

Et maintenant, sur les pâles prairies d'asphodèles,
je me promène, ombre impalpable, 
et le souvenir de ma vie terrestre 
est la joie de ma vie souterraine.

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by Pierre-Félix Louis (1870 - 1925), as Pierre Louÿs
5. Last epitaph
Language: English 
Beneath the black leaves of the laurel,
beneath the amorous blooms of the roses,
it is here that I lay, 
I who could weave verses together, 
and make kisses bloom.

I was born in the land of the nymphs;
I was experienced on the isle of lovers; 
I died on the island of Kypris.
This is why my name is distinguished 
and my column (stele) rubbed with oil.

Do not weep for me, you who have stopped here:
they made my funeral beautiful:  
the  mourners scratched their cheeks; 
they laid my mirrors and necklaces in my tomb.

And now, on the pale prairies  of asphodel, 
I walk, an impalpable shadow, 
and the memory of my earthly life
is the joy of my underworld existence.

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © by Sarah Daughtrey, (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:

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: 124

Translation © by Sarah Daughtrey