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Come, let me sing into your ear; Those dancing days are gone, All that silk and satin gear; Crouch upon a stone, Wrapping that foul body up In as foul a rag: I carry the sun in a golden cup. The moon in a silver bag. Curse as you may I sing it through; What matter if the knave That the most could pleasure you, The children that he gave, Are somewhere sleeping like a top Under a marble flag? I carry the sun in a golden cup. The moon in a silver bag. I thought it out this very day. Noon upon the clock, A man may put pretence away Who leans upon a stick, May sing, and sing until he drop, Whether to maid or hag: I carry the sun in a golden cup, The moon in a silver bag.
About the headline (FAQ)
First published in London Mercury, November 1930, revised 1932Text Authorship:
- by William Butler Yeats (1865 - 1939), "A song for music: Those dancing days are gone" [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 Peter George Aston (b. 1938), "Those dancing days are gone", published 1964 [unaccompanied soprano], from Five Songs of Crazy Jane [text not verified]
- by Jolyon Brettingham Smith (1949 - 2008), "Dancing days", op. 13, published 1975 [soprano, tambourine, flute, oboe, clarinet, horn, trumpet, harp, piano, string quartet, and percussion], Berlin, Bote & Bock [text not verified]
- by John Huggler (b. 1928), "Come, let me sing into your ear", 1958. [coloratura soprano, clarinet, viola, and violoncello] [text not verified]
- by Raymond Warren (b. 1928), "Those dancing days are gone", published 1971 [baritone and piano], from Songs of Old Age [text not verified]
- by Douglas Young (b. 1947), "Those dancing days are gone", 1970-3 [tenor and violoncello], from Realities [text not verified]
Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2009-01-20
Line count: 24
Word count: 142
Viens, laisse-moi chanter dans ton oreille : Ces jours de danse s'en sont allés, Tous ces vêtements de soie et de satin ; Accroupis-toi sur une pierre, Enveloppe ce corps immonde Dans une loque aussi immonde : Je porte le soleil dans une coupe d'or, La lune dans un sac d'argent. Jure comme tu peux je le chante jusqu'au bout ; Qu'importe si la canaille Qui pouvait te plaire le plus, Si l'enfant qu'il donna Dorment quelque part comme des loirs Sous un drapeau de marbre ? Je porte le soleil dans une coupe d'or, La lune dans un sac d'argent. J'y ai bien réfléchi aujourd'hui même. Midi à l'horloge, Un homme peut mettre ses prétentions de côté, Qui s'appuie sur une canne, Il peut chanter, et chanter jusqu'à tomber Soit vers une jeune fille soit vers une sorcière : Je porte le soleil dans une coupe d'or, La lune dans un sac d'argent.
About the headline (FAQ)
Translation of title "A song for music: Those dancing days are gone" = "Chanson pour la musique : ces jours de danse s'en sont allés"Text 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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Based on:
- a text in English by William Butler Yeats (1865 - 1939), "A song for music: Those dancing days are gone"
This text was added to the website: 2015-12-27
Line count: 24
Word count: 148