Lydé
Language: French (Français)
Available translation(s): ENG SPA
Viens ! C'est le jour d'un Dieu. Puisons avec largesse
Le Cécube clos au cellier.
Fière Lydé, permets au plaisir familier
D'amollir un peu ta sagesse.
L'heure fuit, l'horizon rougit sous le soleil,
Hâte-toi. L'amphore remplie
Sous Bibulus consul, repose ensevelie:
Trouble son antique sommeil.
Je chanterai les flots amers, la verte tresse
Des Néréides; toi, Lydé,
Sur ta lyre enlacée à ton bras accoudé
Chante Diane chasseresse.
Puis nous dirons Vénus et son char attelé
De cygnes qu'un lieu d'or guide,
Les Cyclades, Paphos, et tes rives, ô Gnide !
Puis, un hymne au ciel étoilé.
Authorship:
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Reynaldo Hahn (1874 - 1947), "Lydé", published 1900, from Études Latines, no. 5, Paris, Heugel [sung text checked 1 time]
- by Émile Nérini (1882 - 1961), "Lydé", 1909, published 1920 [ high voice and piano ], from Études latines sur des poésies de Leconte de Lisle, no. 5, Éd. René Gilles [sung text not yet checked]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Emily Ezust) , "Lydé", copyright © 2016
- SPA Spanish (Español) (José Miguel Llata) , "Lydé", copyright © 2013, (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: 16
Word count: 97
Lydé
Language: English  after the French (Français)
Come! It is a holiday. Let us drink generously
Of Caecuban wine from the cellar.
Proud Lydé, permit a familiar pleasure
To soften your good sense a little.
Time flies, the horizon reddens under the sun;
Hurry. The amphora, filled
Under the consulship of Bibulus, lies buried:
Disturb its ancient sleep.
I will sing of bitter floods, of the green tresses
Of the Nereids; you, Lydé,
On the lyre that you embrace in your arms,
You will sing of Diana the Huntress.
Then we will call to Venus and her chariot
Harnessed to swans and directed by golden reins,
The Cyclades, Paphos, and your shores, O Gnidus!
Then we will sing a hymn to the starlit sky.
Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2016 by Emily Ezust
Emily Ezust permits her translations to be reproduced without prior permission for printed (not online) programs to free-admission concerts only, provided the following credit is given:
Translation copyright © by Emily Ezust,
from the LiederNet Archive -- https://www.lieder.net/
For any other purpose, please write to the e-mail address below to request permission and discuss possible fees.
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Based on:
This text was added to the website: 2016-10-29
Line count: 16
Word count: 117