by Alfred Tennyson, Lord (1809 - 1892)
Translation © by Pierre Mathé

On either side the river lie
Language: English 
Available translation(s): FRE
On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And thro' the field the road runs by
          To many-tower'd Camelot;
And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies blow
Round an island there below,
          The island of Shalott.
 
Willows whiten, aspens quiver, 
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Thro' the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river
          Flowing down to Camelot.
Four gray walls, and four gray towers, 
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle imbowers
          The Lady of Shalott.
 
By the margin, willow-veil'd,
Slide the heavy barges trail'd 
By slow horses; and unhail'd
The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd
          Skimming down to Camelot:
But who hath seen her wave her hand?
Or at the casement seen her stand? 
Or is she known in all the land,
          The Lady of Shalott?
 
Only reapers, reaping early
In among the bearded barley,
Hear a song that echoes cheerly 
From the river winding clearly,
          Down to tower'd Camelot:
And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers ''Tis the fairy 
          Lady of Shalott.'

D. Holman sets stanzas 1-2

About the headline (FAQ)

Confirmed with Quiller-Couch, Arthur Thomas, Sir. The Oxford Book of English Verse. Oxford: Clarendon, 1919, [c1901]; Bartleby.com, 1999. www.bartleby.com/101/700.html.


Authorship

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

  • FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , title unknown, copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2015-02-19
Line count: 36
Word count: 193

De chaque côté de la rivière s'étendent
Language: French (Français)  after the English 
De chaque côté de la rivière s'étendent
De longs champs d'orge et de seigle,
Qui habillent le plateau et rencontrent le ciel ;
Et la route court par les champs
        Vers Camelot aux nombreuses tours ;
Et les gens vont de côté et d'autre
Regardant où fleurissent les lys,
Là, en bas, autour d'une île,
        L'île de Shallot.

Saules blanchissant, trembles frémissant,
Petites brises, obscurité et frissons
Sur les vagues qui courent éternellement
Près de l'île sur la rivière
        Qui coule vers Camelot.
Quatre murs gris et quatre tours grises
Surplombent un carré de fleurs,
Et l'île silencieuse enclot
        La dame de Shallott.

Sur la berge, voilée par le saule
Glisse une lourde barque halée
Par de lents chevaux ; et sans être saluée
La chaloupe affale ses voiles de soie
        En filant vers Camelot :
Mais qui l'a vue faire un signe de la main ?
Ou l'a vue debout à la croisée,
Où est-elle même connue dans le pays,
        La dame de Shallot ?

Seuls les moissonneurs fauchant de bonne heure
Parmi l'orge barbu
Entendent l'écho d'un joyeux chant
Venant clairement du méandre de la rivière
         Vers Camelot aux nombreuses tours :
Et sous la lune, le moissonneur fatigué,
Entassant les gerbes sur les hauteurs aérées,
Écoute et chuchote « C'est la féerique
        Dame de Shallott. »

About the headline (FAQ)

Authorship

  • Translation from English to French (Français) copyright © 2015 by Pierre Mathé, (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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This text was added to the website: 2015-03-23
Line count: 36
Word count: 219