La caravane humaine au Sahara du monde,
Par ce chemin des ans qui n'a plus de retour,
S'en va traînant le pied, brùlée aux feux du jour,
Et buvant sur ses bras la sueur qui l'inonde.
Le grand lion rugit et la tempète gronde:
À l'horizon fuyard, ni minaret, ni tour;
La seule ombre qu'on ait, c'est l'ombre du vautour,
Qui traverse le ciel, cherchant sa proie immonde.
L'on avance toujours, et voici que l'on voit
Quelque chose de vert que l'on se montre au doigt:
C'est un bois de cyprès, semé de blanches pierres.
Dieu, pour vous reposer, dans le désert du temps,
Comme des oasis a mis les cimetières:
Couchez-vous et dormez, voyageurs haletants!
Composition:
Set to music by Ernest Amédée Chausson (1855 - 1899), "La caravane", op. 14 (1887), published c1890 [ high voice and piano or orchestra ], Paris, J. Hamelle
Text Authorship:
See other settings of this text.
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Peter Low) , no title, copyright © 2000, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- HUN Hungarian (Magyar) (Gyula Vargha) , "A karaván"
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [
Administrator]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 14
Word count: 117
The human caravan in the Sahara of the world,
on this road of years where there is no returning,
plods on with dragging feet, burned by the heat of the day;
the people drink from their arms the sweat that drenches them.
The great lion roars and the tempest rumbles;
on the receding horizon there is no minaret or tower.
The only shadow to be had is that of the vulture
as it crosses the sky seeking its unclean prey.
They trudge always onward. And now someone sees
something green and points it out with a finger!
It is a cypress grove with white stones planted in it.
God, to give you rest, in the desert of time
has placed, like oases, cemeteries.
Lie down and sleep, panting travellers!
