C'est la dernière rose de l'été | C'est la dernière rose de l'été

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by Thomas Moore (1779 - 1852)

Translation © by Pierre Mathé

The last rose of summer

(Sung text for setting by B. Britten)

See original

Language: English

Our translations: CAT DUT FRE

'Tis the last rose of summer,
Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone;
No flow'r of her kindred,
No rosebud is nigh
To reflect back her blushes,
Or give sigh for sigh.

I'll not leave thee, thou lone one,
To pine on the stem;
Since the lovely are sleeping,
Go, sleep thou with them;
Thus kindly I scatter
Thy leaves o'er the bed
Where thy mates of the garden
Lie senseless and dead.

So soon may I follow,
When friendships decay,
And from Love's shining circle
The gems drop away!
When true hearts lie wither'd.
And fond ones are flown,
Oh! who would inhabit
This bleak world alone?

Composition:

(Edward) Benjamin Britten

Text Authorship:

by Thomas Moore (1779 - 1852), "'Tis the last rose of summer", appears in Irish Melodies, first published 1813

See other settings of this text.

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

CAT Catalan (Català) (Salvador Pila) , copyright © 2024, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
DUT Dutch (Nederlands) (Guy A. J. Tops) , "’t Is de laatste roos van de zomer", copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "C'est la dernière rose de l'été", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this page: Ted Perry

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 24
Word count: 114

C'est la dernière rose de l'été

(Sung text translation for setting by B. Britten)

See original

Language: French (Français) after the English

C'est la dernière rose de l'été
Qui seule reste en fleur ;
Toutes ses charmantes compagnes
Se sont fanées et ont disparu ;
Plus une fleur parmi ses sœurs,
Plus un bouton de rose à proximité
Pour refléter ses rougeurs
Ou lui rendre soupir pour soupir.

Je ne te laisserai pas, toi solitaire,
Languir sur ta tige ;
Puisque les belles sont endormies,
Va dormir avec elles.
Ainsi donc je répands
Tes feuilles sur le lit
Où tes compagnes du jardin
Gisent inanimées et sans vie.

Puissé-je te suivre bientôt,
Lorsque l'amitié s'effrite
Et que du brillant cercle d'Amour
Les joyaux se détachent.
Lorsque les cœurs fidèles gisent fanés
Et que ceux qui sont chers se sont enfuis,
Ô, qui voudrait habiter
Seul ce monde désolé ?

Text Authorship:

Translation from English to French (Français) copyright © 2014 by Pierre Mathé, (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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Based on:

a text in English by Thomas Moore (1779 - 1852), "'Tis the last rose of summer", appears in Irish Melodies, first published 1813
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This text was added to the website: 2014-04-16
Line count: 24
Word count: 125