Attention! Some of this material is not in the public domain.
It is illegal to copy and distribute our copyright-protected material without permission. It is also illegal to reprint copyright texts or translations without the name of the author or translator.
To inquire about permissions and rates, contact Emily Ezust at
If you wish to reprint translations, please make sure you include the names of the translators in your email. They are below each translation.
Note: You must use the copyright symbol © when you reprint copyright-protected material.
J'avais le plus joli de tous les bengalis; Il chantait tout le jour Mille chansons d'amour, Cui, cui, cui, cui, cui, cui. Quand il n'était pas sage, Je mettais dans sa cage Un morceau de pain sec Pour qu'il y fit son bec. Mais quand il était mignon Je lui donnais du bon mouron, Du millet, du chènevis, Et même un morceau de biscuit, Cuit, cuit, cuit, cuit, cuit, cuit. Mais tout passe, tout lasse, tout casse. Bengali tomba dans la casserole où cuisait la soupe aux choux Et nous l'avons mangé tout cuit, Cuit, cuit, cuit, cuit, cuit, cuit.
- by Michel Veber (1896 - 1965), as Nino [author's text not yet checked 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 Manuel Rosenthal (1904 - 2003), "Le bengali", 1934, from Chansons du Monsieur Bleu, no. 11. [ sung text verified 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Laura Prichard) , "The bengal finch", copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 18
Word count: 100
I had the prettiest of all bengali finches; He sang all day A thousand songs of love Cui, cui, cui, cui, cui, cui. When it was not well behaved, I put in his cage A piece of dry bread Upon which to sharpen its beak. But when he was cute I gave him good birdseed, Some millet, some hemp, And even a piece of biscuit, Cuit, cuit, cuit, cuit, cuit, cuit. But everything passes, everything wears out, everything breaks. The bengal finch fell into the casserole dish when I was cooking the cabbage soup And we ate it all cooked Cuit, cuit, cuit, cuit, cuit, cuit.
Line 13 - a play on the sound of the bird, echoing the last syllable of the word “biscuit”
Line 18 - a play on the sound of the bird, echoing the word “cooked”
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2016 by Laura Prichard, (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.
This text was added to the website: 2016-04-14
Line count: 18
Word count: 106