by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941)
Translation © by Guy Laffaille

I am restless. I am athirst for far‑away...
Language: English  after the Bangla (Bengali) 
Available translation(s): FRE GER
I am restless.  I am athirst for far-away things.
My soul goes out in a longing 
to touch the skirt of the dim distance.
O Great Beyond, O the keen call of thy flute!
I forget, I ever forget, 
that I have no wings to fly, 
that I am bound in this spot 
evermore.

I am eager and wakeful, 
I am a stranger in a strange land.
Thy breath comes to me 
whispering an impossible hope.
Thy tongue is known to my heart 
as its very own.
O Far-to-seek, O the keen call of thy flute!
I forget, I ever forget, 
that I know not the way, 
that I have not the winged horse.

I am listless, I am a wanderer in my heart.
In the sunny haze of the languid hours, 
what vast vision of thine takes shape 
in the blue of the sky!
O Farthest end, O the keen call of thy flute!
I forget, I ever forget,
that the gates are shut everywhere in the house 
where I dwell alone!

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

Settings in other languages, adaptations, or excerpts:

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

  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Je suis inquiet", copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • GER German (Deutsch) (Bertram Kottmann) , "Rastlos bin ich", copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

Text added to the website: 2004-01-17 00:00:00
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:02:03
Line count: 26
Word count: 173

Je suis inquiet
Language: French (Français)  after the English 
Je suis inquiet. je suis assoiffé de choses lointaines.
Mon âme erre dans le désir
de toucher les basques du lointain vague.
Ô Grand Au-delà, ô appel poignant de ta flûte !
J'oublie, j'oublie toujours,
que je n'ai pas d'ailes pour voler,
que je suis lié à cet endroit
pour toujours.

Je suis impatient et éveillé,
je suis un étranger dans un pays étranger.
Ton souffle vient jusqu'à moi
murmurant un impossible espoir.
Ta langue est connue de mon cœur
comme la sienne.
Ô But lointain, ô appel poignant de ta flûte !
J'oublie, j'oublie toujours,
que je connais pas le chemin,
que je n'ai pas de cheval ailé.

Je suis inquiet, je suis un voyageur dans mon cœur.
Dans la brume ensoleillée des heures languissantes,
quelle vaste vision de toi prend forme
dans le bleu du ciel !
Ô extrémité la plus éloignée, ô appel poignant de ta flûte !
J'oublie, j'oublie toujours,
que les portes sont fermées partout dans la maison
où je demeure solitaire.

Authorship

  • Translation from English to French (Français) copyright © 2016 by Guy Laffaille, (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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Text added to the website: 2016-01-13 00:00:00
Last modified: 2016-01-13 21:08:00
Line count: 26
Word count: 167