by Joachim du Bellay (1525 - c1560)
Translation © by David Wyatt

Autre bayser
Language: French (Français) 
Available translation(s): ENG
Quand ton col de couleur de rose
Se donne à mon embrassement,
Et ton œil languist doulcement
D'une paupière à demy close,

Mon ame se fond du désir,
Dont elle est ardentement pleine,
Et ne peult souffrir à grand' peine
La force d'un si grand plaisir.

Puis quand j'approche de la tienne
Ma lèvre, et que si près je suis,
Que la fleur recuillir je puis
De ton haleine Ambroisienne:

Quand le soupir de ces odeurs
Ou noz deux langues qui se jouent,
Moitement folastrent et nouent,
Évente mes doulces ardeurs,

Il me semble estre assis à table
Avec les Dieux, tant suis heureux,
Et boire à longs traicts savoureux
Leur doulx breuvage délectable.

Si le bien qui au plus grand bien
Est plus prochain, prendre on me laisse,
Pourquoy ne permets-tu, maistresse,
Qu'encores le plus grand soit mien ?

As-tu peur que la jouissance
D'un si grand heur me face Dieu ?
Et que sans toy je vole au lieu
D'éternelle resjouissance ?

Belle, n'aye peur de cela,
Par tout où sera ta demeure,
Mon ciel jusqu'à tant que je meure,
Et mon paradis sera là.

Confirmed with Divers Jeux Rustiques et autres œuvres poétiques de Joachim Du Bellay Angevin, Collationné sur la première édition (Paris, 1558), Paris, Isidore Liseux, 1875, pages 80-81.


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):

  • ENG English (David Wyatt) , "Other kiss", copyright © 2017, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2015-07-07
Line count: 32
Word count: 187

Other kiss
Language: English  after the French (Français) 
When your neck, the colour of rose,
Is given to my embrace,
And your eye sweetly rests
With the eyelid half-closed,

My soul drowns in the desire
With which it is ardently filled,
And cannot suffer in its great pain
The strength of such great pleasure.

Then when I approach your lips
With mine, and am so close to you
That I can inhale the flower
Of your ambrosial breath,

When the breeze of those scents
Where our two tongues, playing together,
Wetly gambolling and tying themselves in knots,
Exhausts my gentle ardour,

I seem to be seated at table
With the gods, so happy am I,
And to be drinking long, pleasing draughts
Of their delectable sweet drink.

If that good which is above the greatest good
Is coming close, I’ll let myself be taken,
Why don’t you permit, mistress,
That the greatest should be mine?

Are you afraid that enjoying
Such great happiness would make me a god?
And that I’d fly without you to the place
Of eternal rejoicing?

My beauty, have no fear of that:
Everywhere you have your home,
My heaven until whenever I die
And my paradise will be there.

Authorship

  • Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2017 by David Wyatt, (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.
    Contact: 

Based on

 

This text was added to the website: 2017-06-10
Line count: 32
Word count: 196