The Hands | When I look at my hands

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by Veuve Delbousquet, Mme (1838 - 1924), as Noël Bazan

Translation © by Emily Ezust

Les mains

Language: French (Français)

Our translations: ENG

Chosen for Diff

Lorsque je regarde mes mains,
Je revois de petits chemins
Pleins de pervenches.
Un souffle vient me caresser,
Et je sens des lèvres passer
Sur mes mains blanches.

Lorsque je regarde mes mains,
Mon cœur, qui parmi les humains
Lutte et résiste,
Est-se-coué d'un grand frisson,
Car il entend une chanson
Qui le rend triste !

Lorsque je regarde mes mains,
Je sais que tous leurs lendemains
Seront moroses.
Elles ont connu les baisers
Et leurs doigts se sont reposés
Parmi les roses.

Et maintenant, bientôt ces mains
S'en iront le long des chemins
Sous quatre planches.
Nul ne les verra plus jamais,
Pas même toi qui les aimais...
Pauvres mains blanches !

Pas même toi...

Text Authorship:

by Veuve Delbousquet, Mme (1838 - 1924), as Noël Bazan [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 Jules Massenet (1842 - 1912), "Les mains", 1899, published 1899 [ voice and piano ], Éd. Heugel [sung text checked 1 time]

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

ENG English (Emily Ezust) , "The Hands", copyright © 2026

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 25
Word count: 114

The Hands

Language: English after the French (Français)

Chosen for Diff

When I look at my hands,
I see once again little paths
Full of periwinkles.
A breeze caresses me,
And I sense lips passing
Over my white hands.

When I look at my hands,
My heart, which among people
Struggles and resists,
Is shaken by a great shiver,
For it hears a song
That makes it sad!

When I look at my hands,
I know that all their tomorrows
Will be gloomy.
They have known kisses
And their fingers have rested
Among roses.

And now, these hands
Will soon follow those paths
Under four planks.
No one will ever see them again,
Not even you who loved them...
Poor white hands!

Not even you...

Text Authorship:

Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2026 by Emily Ezust
Emily Ezust permits her translations to be reproduced without prior permission for printed (not online) programs to free-admission concerts only, provided the following credit is given:
Translation copyright © by Emily Ezust,
from the LiederNet Archive
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Based on:

a text in French (Français) by Veuve Delbousquet, Mme (1838 - 1924), as Noël Bazan
- Go to the text page.

This text was added to the website: 2026-08-05
Line count: 25
Word count: 114