Je voudroy bien richement jaunissant
En pluye d’or goute à goute descendre
Dans le giron de ma belle Cassandre,
Lors qu'en ses yeux le somne va glissant.

[Puis je voudroy en toreau blanchissant
Me transformer pour sur mon dos la prendre,
Quand en Avril]1 par l'herbe la plus tendre
Seule, à l'ecart, mille fleurs ravissant.

Je voudroy bien pour alleger ma peine,
Estre un Narcisse et elle une fontaine,
Pour m'y plonger une nuict à sejour :

[Et si voudroy que ceste nuict encore
Fust eternelle, et que jamais l'Aurore
Pour m’esveiller ne]2 rallumast le jour.

About the headline (FAQ)

View original text (without footnotes)
¹ Boni: "Je voudroy bien en toreau blanchissant/ Me transformer pour finement la prendre,/ Quand elle va"
² Boni: "Et voudroy bien que ceste nuict encore/ Fust eternelle, et que jamais l'Aurore/ D'un front nouveau nous"

Text Authorship:

• by Pierre de Ronsard (1524 - 1585), no title [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]

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

• by Guillaume Boni (c1530 - c1594), "Je voudroy bien richement jaunissant", published 1608 [ vocal quartet ], from Sonnets de Pierre de Ronsard mis en musique à 4 parties, I, no. 5, Paris, Pierre Ballard [sung text checked 1 time]
• by Robert Caby (1905 - 1992), "Je voudrais bien, richement jaunissant", 1956 [ mixed chorus and orchestra ] [sung text not yet checked]
• by (Rudolf) Walther Hirschberg (1889 - 1960), "À Cassandre" [ high voice and piano ], from 12 Mélodies, no. 11 [sung text not yet checked]

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

• ENG English (David Wyatt) , "I wish that, in the rich yellow", copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this page: David Wyatt

This text was added to the website: 2015-02-26
Line count: 14
Word count: 95

I wish that, in the rich yellow
Of a rain of gold, I could fall drop by drop
Into the lap of my fair Cassandre,
As sleep slips over her eyes.

[And then I wish that I could transform myself
Into a white bull, to take her on my back
When in April]1 she walks in the softest, newest grass
Alone, at a distance, stealing a thousand flowers..

I wish that, to lessen my pain,
I could be a Narcissus and she a fountain,
So that I could dive in one night to stay :

[And so I wish that night were indeed
Eternal, and that Dawn would never
Bring back the daylight to wake me.]2