by William Wordsworth (1770 - 1850)
Translation © by Salvador Pila

But that night when on my bed I lay
Language: English 
Available translation(s): CAT FRE
But that night
When on my bed I lay, I was most mov'd
And felt most deeply in what world I was;
With unextinguish'd taper I kept watch,
Reading at intervals; the fear gone by
Press'd on me almost like a fear to come;
I thought of those September Massacres,
Divided from me by a little month,
And felt and touch'd them, a substantial dread:
The rest was conjured up from tragic fictions,
And mournful Calendars of true history,
Remembrances and dim admonishments.
"The horse is taught his manage, and the wind
Of heaven wheels round and treads in his own steps,
Year follows year, the tide returns again,
Day follows day, all things have second birth;
The earthquake is not satisfied all at once."
And in such way I wrought upon myself,
Until I seem'd to hear a voice that cried
To the whole City, "Sleep no more."

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):

  • CAT Catalan (Català) (Salvador Pila) , "Però aquella nit quan jeia al meu llit", copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Jean-Pierre Granger)


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

Text added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Last modified: 2018-11-18 08:30:17
Line count: 20
Word count: 149

Però aquella nit quan jeia al meu llit
Language: Catalan (Català)  after the English 
Però aquella nit
quan jeia al meu llit, estava molt torbat
i vaig copsar en quina mena de món em trobava;
amb una espelma encara encesa jo vetllava,
a estones llegint; la por que ja havia passat
m’oprimia quasi tant com la por que havia de venir;
pensava en aquelles massacres de setembre,
allunyades de mi per tan sols un mes,
i les sentia, les tocava, un terror substancial:
la resta l’evocaven tràgiques ficcions
i tristes cròniques de fets reals,
recordances i vagues advertències.
“Al cavall se l’ensenya ensinistrant-lo, i el vent
del cel gira al voltant i trepitja les seves pròpies passes,
un dia segueix a l’altre, i de nou puja la marea,
el terratrèmol no en té prou amb una sola vegada.”
I així m’anava posant nerviós,
fins que em semblà sentir una veu cridant
a tota la ciutat, “No dormis més.”

Authorship

  • Translation from English to Catalan (Català) copyright © 2016 by Salvador Pila, (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

 

Text added to the website: 2016-03-29 00:00:00
Last modified: 2016-03-29 17:32:20
Line count: 19
Word count: 144