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Notre amour est réglé par les calmes étoiles Or nous savons qu'en nous beaucoup d'hommes respirent Qui vinrent de trés loin et sont un sous nos fronts C'est la chanson des rêveurs Qui s'étaient arraché le coeur Et le portaient dans la main droite ... Souviens-t'en cher orgueil de tous ces souvenirs Des marins qui chantaient comme des conquérants. Des gouffres de Thulé, des tendres cieux d'Ophir Des malades maudits, de ceux qui fuient leur ombre Et du retour joyeux des heureux émigrants. De ce coeur il coulait du sang Et le rêveur allait pensant À sa blessure délicate ... Tu ne briseras pas la chaîne de ces causes... ...Et douloureuse et nous disait: ...Qui sont les effets d'autres causes Mon pauvre coeur, mon coeur brisé Pareil au coeur de tous les hommes... Voici nos mains que la vie fit esclaves ...Est mort d'amour ou c'est tout comme Est mort d'amour et le voici. Ainsi vont toutes choses Arrachez donc le vôtre aussi! Et rien ne sera libre jusq'à la fin des temps Laissons tout aux morts Et cachons nos sanglots
First published in the revue Nord-Sud no. 4-5, June-July 1917, and then in 1925 in Il y a, Paris, Éd. Messein.
Authorship:
- by Wilhelm Albert Włodzimierz Apolinary Kostrowicki (1880 - 1918), as Guillaume Apollinaire, "Sanglots", written 1917, appears in Il y a, no. 5, first published 1917 [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):
- by Francis Poulenc (1899 - 1963), "Sanglots", FP 107 no. 5 (1940), published 1941 [ medium voice and piano ], from Banalités, no. 5, Éd. Max Eschig [sung text checked 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Peter Low) , "Sobs", copyright © 2001, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 27
Word count: 182
Human love is ruled by the calm stars. We know that within us many people breathe who came from afar and are united behind our brows. This is the song of that dreamer who had torn out his heart and was carrying it in his right hand... Remember, oh dear pride, all those memories: the sailors who sang like conquerors, the chasms of Thule, the tender skies of Ophir, the accursed sick, the ones who flee their own shadows, and the joyful return of the happy emigrants. Blood was flowing from that heart; and the dreamer went on thinking of his wound which was delicate ... You will not break the chain of those causes... ...and painful; and he kept saying to us: ...which are the effects of other causes. "My poor heart, my heart which is broken like the hearts of all men... Look, here are our hands which life enslaved. "...has died of love or so it seems, has died of love and here it is. That is the way of all things. "So tear your hearts out too!" And nothing will be free until the end of time. Let us leave everything to the dead, and let us hide our sobbing.
Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2001 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.
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Based on:
- a text in French (Français) by Wilhelm Albert Włodzimierz Apolinary Kostrowicki (1880 - 1918), as Guillaume Apollinaire, "Sanglots", written 1917, appears in Il y a, no. 5, first published 1917
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 27
Word count: 205