by Pierre-Félix Louis (1870 - 1925), as Pierre Louÿs
Translation © by Sarah Daughtrey

La nuit s'éfface. Les étoiles...
Language: French (Français) 
Available translation(s): ENG ENG GER
La nuit s'éfface. Les étoiles s'éloignent.
Voici que les dernières courtisanes 
sont rentrées avec les amants. 
Et moi, dans la pluie du matin, 
j'écris ces vers sur le sable.

Les feuilles sont chargées d'eau brillante. 
Des ruisseaux à travers les sentiers
entraînent la terre et les feuilles mortes.
La pluie, goutte à goutte, 
fait des trous dans ma chanson.

Oh! que je suis triste et seule ici! 
Les plus jeunes ne me regardent pas; 
[les plus âgés m'ont oublieé]1.
[C'est bien. Ils apprendront] mes vers, 
et les enfants de leurs enfants.

Voilà ce que ni Myrtalê, ni Thaïs, 
ni Glykére ne se diront, 
le jour où leurs belles joues seront creuses.  
Ceux qui aimeront après moi 
chanteront mes strophes ensemble.

About the headline (FAQ)

View original text (without footnotes)
1 Koechlin: "et les plus âgés m'oublient"
2 Koechlin: "Mais tous ils sauront"

Authorship:

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):

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

  • ENG English (Sarah Daughtrey) , "Morning rain", copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • ENG English (Marvin J. Ward) , "The Morning Rain", copyright © 2003, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • GER German (Deutsch) (Bertram Kottmann) , "Morgenregen", copyright © 2013, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Sarah Daughtrey

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 20
Word count: 120

Morning rain
Language: English  after the French (Français) 
The night is fading.  The stars are far away.
Now the last courtesans 
have all gone home with their lovers.  
And I, in the morning rain, 
I write these verses on the sand.

The leaves are loaded down with shining water.
The streams that go across
carry earth and dead leaves.
The rain, drop by drop, 
makes holes in my song.

Oh! how sad and lonely I am here!
The youngest do not look at me; 
and the oldest forget me. 
But all will know my verses, 
and the children of their children.

Here is something neither Myrtale, nor Thais, 
nor Glykera will say, 
the day their lovely cheeks grow saggy with age.
Those who will love after me 
will sing my songs together.

Authorship:

  • Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © by Sarah Daughtrey, (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:

 

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 20
Word count: 124