When for a while the hail and thunderclouds

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by Louise Labé (1526 - 1566)

Translation © by Peter Low

Apres qu'un tems la gresle & le tonnerre

Language: French (Français)

Our translations: ENG

Apres qu'un tems la gresle & le tonnerre
 Ont le haut mont de Caucase batu,
 Le beau iour vient, de lueur reuétu.
 Quand Phebus ha son cerne fait en terre,

Et l'Océan il regaigne à grand erre :
 Sa seur se montre auec son chef pointu.
 Quand quelque tems le Parthe ha combatu,
 Il prent la fuite & son arc il desserre.

Vn tems t'ay vù & consolé pleintif,
 Et defiant de mon feu peu hatif :
 Mais maintenant que tu m'as embrasee.

Et suis au point auquel tu me voulois.
 Tu as ta flame en quelque eau arrosee.
 Et es plus froit qu'estre ie ne soulois.

About the headline (FAQ)

Confirmed with Œuvres de Louise Labé, texte établi par Charles Boy, Paris, Alphonse Lemerre, 1887, page 102.

Text Authorship:

by Louise Labé (1526 - 1566), no title, appears in Sonnets, no. 16 [author's text checked 1 time 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):

[ None yet in the database ]

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

ENG English (Peter Low) , copyright © 2022, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
GER German (Deutsch) (Rainer Maria Rilke) , no title, appears in Die vierundzwanzig Sonette der Louize Labé, Lyoneserin : 1555, no. 16, Leipzig, Insel-Verlag, first published 1917

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2020-03-02
Line count: 14
Word count: 105

When for a while the hail and...

Language: English after the French (Français)

When for a while the hail and thunderclouds
have stormed about the Scythian mountain’s height,
fine weather comes and clothes the world with light.
When radiant Phoebus ends his daily round

and swiftly slides beneath the ocean deeps,
his sister rises to adorn the night.
When the Parthian archer has fought a fight,
he slackens off his bow-string and retreats.

I saw you for a while, and heard you blame
my slow response to your impatient flame;
but now that many sparks have leapt across

and I’m as blazing hot as you could want,
you’ve gone and doused your fire in some pond,
and you are colder than I ever was.

About the headline (FAQ)

Text Authorship:

Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2022 by Peter Low, (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: licenses@email.lieder.example.net

Based on:

a text in French (Français) by Louise Labé (1526 - 1566), no title, appears in Sonnets, no. 16
- Go to the text page.

This text was added to the website: 2022-07-11
Line count: 14
Word count: 111