O beauty, who hold my life

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possibly by Jean Tabourot (1520 - 1595), as Thoinot Arbeau

Translation © by Grant Hicks

Belle qui tient ma vie

(Sung text for setting by P. Lange-Müller)

See base text

Language: Old French (Ancien français)

Our translations: ENG

Belle qui tient ma vie
captive dans tes yeux,
qui m'as l'âme ravie
d'un souris gracieux ;
viens tôt me secourir,
ou me faudra mourir.

Tes beautés et ta grâce,
et tes divins propos
ont de moi pris la place
et causé tant de maux
en remplissant mon cœur
d'une amoureuse ardeur.

Di d'un brûlant martyre
tu n'as aucun émoi,
si ta beauté m'attire
et ne fait rien pour moi :
tant aimer et souffrir,
oh ! mieux vaudrait mourir.

Note: see also Peter Cornelius's piece Blaue Augen, which adapts Arbeau's melody to a German text that is not a direct translation of this text but shares the mention of blue eyes. Reger's "Altfranzösisches Tanzlied" is also based on Arbeau's melody (unattributed) and uses this same text by Cornelius (also unattributed). Warlock also uses Arbeau's melody in his Capriol Suite, in the "Pavane", without words.

Composition:

Peter Erasmus Lange-Müller

Six anciennes chansons d'amour

Text Authorship:

possibly by Jean Tabourot (1520 - 1595), as Thoinot Arbeau

See other settings of this text.

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

ENG English (Grant Hicks) , copyright © 2026, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2009-07-26
Line count: 42
Word count: 179

The beauty who holds my life

(Sung text translation for setting by P. Lange-Müller)

See original

Language: English after the Old French (Ancien français)

O beauty, who hold my life
Captive in your eyes,
Who have stolen my soul from me
With a gracious smile,
Come quickly to my aid
Or I must die.

Why do you coyly flee
If I am near you?
When I look into your eyes 
I become lost within myself,
For your perfections
Transform my deeds.

Your beauties and your grace
And your divine speech
Have thawed the ice
That was freezing my bones,
And have filled my heart 
With amorous ardor.

My soul used to be
Free from passions,
But love has made itself master 
Of my affections,
And has placed under its law
Both my heart and my faith.

Come near then, my beauty,
Come near, my blessing,
Resist me no longer 
For my heart is yours;
To ease my pain,
Give me a kiss.

I die, my little angel,
I die when I kiss you,
Your mouth so sweet
Steals from me all I have;
In that moment my spirits
Are set aflame by love.

We will sooner see the wave
Recede against the mountain 
And the eye of the world
Will sooner cease its burning 
Than the love that pricks me
Decrease by a single speck.

Text Authorship:

Translation from Old French (Ancien 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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Based on:

a text in Old French (Ancien français) possibly by Jean Tabourot (1520 - 1595), as Thoinot Arbeau
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This text was added to the website: 2026-03-23
Line count: 42
Word count: 201