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La nuit descend du haut des cieux, Le givre au toit suspend ses franges. Et, dans les airs, le vol des anges Éveille un bruit mystérieux. L'étoile qui guidait les mages, S'arrête enfin dans les nuages, Et fait briller un nimbe d'or Sur la chaumiére où Jésus dort. Alors, ouvrant ses yeux divins, L'enfant couché, dans l'humble crèche, De son berceau de paille fraîche, Sourit aux nobles pélérins. Eux, s'inclinant, lui disent: Sire, Reçois l'encens, l'or et la myrrhe, Et laisse-nous, ô doux Jésus, Baiser le bout de tes pieds nus. Comme eux, ô peuple, incline-toi, Imite leur pieux exemple, Car cette étable, c'est un temple, Et cet enfant sera ton roi!
- by Victor Wilder (1835 - 1892) [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 Gabriel Fauré (1845 - 1924), "Noël", op. 43 no. 1 (1886), published 1886. [ sung text checked 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (M. Ryan Taylor) , "Noel", copyright © 2007, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- ENG English (Garrett Medlock) , "Noel", copyright © 2018, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
Text added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:01:56
Line count: 20
Word count: 112
The night descends from the height of the skies, The frost on the roof suspends its fringes. And, in the air, the flight of the angels Awakes a mysterious noise. The star which guided the magi Halts at last in the clouds And shines a golden nimbus On the cottage where Jesus sleeps. Then, opening his divine eyes, The child lying in the humble crib, A cradle of fresh straw, Smiles to the noble pilgrims. Bowing, they say to him: Lord, Receive this incense, gold, and myrrh, And let us, oh gentle Jesus, Kiss the bottom of your feet. Like them, oh people, bow yourselves, Follow their pious example, Because this stable is a temple, And this child will be your king!
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2018 by Garrett Medlock, (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.
Text added to the website: 2018-12-05 00:00:00
Last modified: 2018-12-05 15:19:22
Line count: 20
Word count: 122