by Paul Verlaine (1844 - 1896)
Translation by Valery Yakovlevich Bryusov (1873 - 1924)

Le piano que baise une main frêle
Language: French (Français) 
Available translation(s): ENG
Le piano que baise une main frêle,
Luit dans le soir rose et gris vaguement,
Tandis qu'avec un très léger bruit d'aile,
Un air bien vieux, bien faible et bien charmant,
Rôde discret, épeuré quasiment,
Par le boudoir longtemps parfumé d'Elle.

Qu'est-ce que c'est que ce berceau soudain
Qui lentement dorlote mon pauvre être ?
Que voudrais-tu de moi, doux Chant badin ?
Qu'as-tu voulu, fin refrain incertain
Qui vas tantôt mourir vers la fenêtre 
Ouverte un peu sur le petit jardin ?

About the headline (FAQ)

Authorship:

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:

  • Also set in Czech (Čeština), a translation by Anonymous/Unidentified Artist ; composed by Josef Bohuslav Foerster.
  • Also set in German (Deutsch), a translation by Serge Bortkiewicz (1877 - 1952) , "Das Klavier liebkost von dem Händchen" ; composed by Serge Bortkiewicz.
  • Also set in Russian (Русский), a translation by Anonymous/Unidentified Artist ; composed by Viktor Gavrilovich Pergament.
  • Also set in Russian (Русский), a translation by Valery Yakovlevich Bryusov (1873 - 1924) ; composed by Arthur Vincent Lourié.
  • Also set in Slovak (Slovenčina), a translation by Anonymous/Unidentified Artist ; composed by Vladimír Rusó.

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


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 12
Word count: 83

Целует клавиши прелестная рука
Language: Russian (Русский)  after the French (Français) 
Целует клавиши прелестная рука;
И в сером сумраке, немного розоватом,
Они блестят; напев, на крыльях мотылька
(О, песня милая, любимая когда-то!),
Плывет застенчиво, испуганно слегка. —
И все полно ее пьянящим ароматом,

И вот я чувствую, как будто колыбель
Баюкает мой дух, усталый и скорбящий.
Что хочешь от меня, ты, песни нежный хмель"
И ты, ее припев, неясный и манящий
Ты, замирающий, как дальняя свирель,
В окне, растворенном на сад вечерний, спящий?

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Note on Transliterations

Authorship:

Based on:

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


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2021-12-12
Line count: 12
Word count: 72