by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941)
Translation by André Gide (1869 - 1951)

Yes, I know, this is nothing but thy...
Language: English  after the Bangla (Bengali) 
Available translation(s): GER
Yes, I know, this is nothing but thy love,
O beloved of my heart --
this golden light that dances upon the leaves, 
these idle clouds sailing across the sky, 
this passing breeze leaving 
its coolness upon my forehead.

The morning light has flooded my eyes --
this is thy message to my heart.
Thy face is bent from above, 
thy eyes look down on my eyes, 
and my heart has touched thy feet.

About the headline (FAQ)

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)


This text (or a part of it) is used in a work

Settings in other languages, adaptations, or excerpts:

  • Also set in Dutch (Nederlands), a translation possibly by Frederik van Eeden (1860 - 1932) ENG FRE GER ITA ; composed by Atma Kenswil, Hans Schouwman, Bernard Zweers.
  • Also set in French (Français), a translation by André Gide (1869 - 1951) , no title, appears in Gitanjali (L'Offrande lyrique), first published 1914 ENG GER ITA ; composed by Gary Bachlund, Jean-Émile-Paul Cras.
  • Also set in German (Deutsch), a translation by Anonymous/Unidentified Artist ENG FRE ITA ; composed by Jan Pieter Hendrik van Gilse.
  • Also set in Italian (Italiano), a translation by Anonymous/Unidentified Artist ENG FRE GER ; composed by Franco Alfano.

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

  • GER German (Deutsch) (Bertram Kottmann) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

Text added to the website: 2004-01-17 00:00:00
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:02:03
Line count: 11
Word count: 72

Oui, je le sais bien, ce n'est là rien...
Language: French (Français)  after the English 
Oui, je le sais bien, ce n'est là rien que ton amour,
ô aimé de mon coeur -
cette lumière d'or qui danse sur les feuilles;
ces indolents nuages qui voguent par le ciel,
et cette brise passagère qui laisse 
sa fraîcheur à mon front.

Mes yeux se sont lavés dans la lumière matinale -
et c'est ton message à mon coeur.
Ta face, de très haut s'incline;
tes yeux ont plongé dans mes yeux
et contre tes pieds bat mon coeur.

About the headline (FAQ)

Authorship

Based onBased 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: Geoffrey Wieting

Text added to the website: 2004-01-17 00:00:00
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:02:03
Line count: 11
Word count: 82