Du Printemps
See originalLanguage: French (Français)
La froidure paresseuse
De l'yver a fait son temps;
Voicy la saison joyeuse
Du délicieux printemps.
La terre est d'herbes ornée,
L'herbe de fleuretes l'est;
La feuillure retournée
Fait ombre dans la forest.
...
Mais oyez dans le bocage
Le flageolet du berger,
Qui agace le ramage
Du rossignol bocager.
Voyez l'onde clere et pure
Se cresper dans les ruisseaux;
Dedans, voyez la verdure
De ces voisins arbrisseaux.
...
Les menageres avetes
Font çà un doux fruit,
Voletant par les fleuretes
Pour cueillir ce qui leur duit.
...
Tout resonne des voix nettes
De toutes races d'oyseaux,
Par les chams, des alouetes,
Des cygnes, dessus les eaux.
Aux maisons, les arondelles,
Les rossignols, dans les boys,
En gayes chansons nouvelles
Exercent leurs belles voix.
...
Et si le chanter m'agrée,
N'est-ce pas avec raison,
Puis qu'ainsi tout se recrée
Avec la gaye saison?
Note: the text above is taken from stanzas 1,2,6,7,9,11,12,14 of the original text.
Composition:
Set to music by George Templeton Strong (1856 - 1948), "Du Printemps", copyright © 1930, stanzas 1,2,6,7,9,11,12,14 [ four-part women's chorus a cappella ], Genève, Édition Henn
Text Authorship:
See other settings of this text.
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (David Wyatt) , "In spring", copyright © 2013, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [
Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2008-11-25
Line count: 56
Word count: 261
Language: English after the French (Français)
The cold sloth
Of winter has had its time;
Now is the joyous season
Of delightful spring.
Plants decorate the ground,
And little flowers the plants;
The leaves are back
And make shade in the forest.
...
Ah, hear in the copse
The shepherd's flute
Which upsets the building-works
Of the nesting nightingale.
See the clear, pure water
Bubbling in the streams;
Within them, see the greenery
Of their branching neighbours.
...
The housekeeping bees
Make here their sweet produce,
Flitting among the flowers
To garner their due.
...
Everywhere resound the clear voices
Of all kinds of birds,
In the meadows the larks,
The swans on the waters,
In the houses the swallows,
The nightingales in the woods,
All raise their sweet voices
In happy new songs.
...
And if singing pleases me,
Is there not good reason
Since everything amuses itself this way
In this happy season?
Note: the text above is taken from stanzas 1,2,6,7,9,11,12,14 of the original text.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2013 by David Wyatt, (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:
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This text was added to the website: 2013-05-07
Line count: 56
Word count: 282
