by
Francis Jammes (1868 - 1938)
Les lilas qui avaient fleuri l'année...
Language: French (Français)
Available translation(s): ENG SPA
Les lilas qui avaient fleuri l'année dernière
vont fleurir de nouveau dans les tristes parterres.
Déjà le pêcher grêle a jonché le ciel bleu
de ses roses, comme un enfant la Fête-Dieu.
Mon cœur devrait mourir au milieu de ces choses,
car c'était au milieu des vergers blancs et roses
que j'avais espéré je ne sais quoi de vous.
Mon âme rêve sourdement sur vos genoux.
Ne la repoussez point. Ne la relevez pas
de peur qu'en s'éloignant de vous elle ne voie
combien vous êtes faible et troublée dans ses bras.
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):
- by Michel Bosc (b. 1963), "Les lilas", 1999 [ high voice, flute, and piano ], from Tristesses, no. 19 [sung text not yet checked]
- by Lili Boulanger (1893 - 1918), "Les lilas qui avaient fleuri", 1914, published 1919 [ high voice and piano or orchestra ], from Clairières dans le ciel, no. 9, Ricordi [sung text checked 1 time]
- by Darius Milhaud (1892 - 1974), "Les lilas qui avaient fleuri l'année dernière", op. 355 no. 19 (1956), published 1957 [ baritone and piano ], from Tristesses, no. 19, Paris, Éd. Heugel [sung text not yet checked]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Faith J. Cormier) , "The lilacs which bloomed", copyright © 2003, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- SPA Spanish (Español) (Elisa Rapado) , copyright © 2020, (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: 11
Word count: 92
The lilacs which bloomed
Language: English  after the French (Français)
The lilacs which bloomed last year
will flower again in their sad beds.
Already the frail peach tree has bedecked the blue sky
with its roses, like a child on the feast of Corpus Christi.
My heart should die amid all these things,
for it was among white and pink orchards
that I had hoped for I don't know what from you.
My soul sleeps soundly in your lap.
Don't push it away. Don't awaken it,
for fear that when it leaves
it will see how you are weak and troubled in its arms.
Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2003 by Faith J. Cormier, (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:
This text was added to the website: 2004-01-27
Line count: 11
Word count: 94