by Charles Hubert Millevoye (1782 - 1816)
Translation © by Linda Godry

Dans les bois l'amoureux Myrtil
Language: French (Français) 
Available translation(s): ENG GER
Dans les bois l'amoureux Myrtil
Avait pris Fauvette légère :
"Aimable oiseau, lui disait-il,
Je te destine à ma bergère.
Pour prix du don que j'aurai fait,
Que de baisers !... Si ma Lucette 
M'en donne deux pour un bouquet,
J'en aurai dix pour la Fauvette."

La Fauvette dans le vallon
A laissé son ami fidèle,
Et [fait tant]1 que de sa prison
Elle s'échappe à tire-d'aile.
"Ah ! dit le berger désolé,
Adieu les baisers de Lucette !
Tout mon bonheur s'est envolé
Sur les ailes de la Fauvette."

Myrtil retourne au bois voisin,
Pleurant la perte qu'il a faite ;
Soit par hasard, soit à [dessein]2,
Dans le bois se trouvait Lucette :
[Sensible]3 à ce gage de foi,
Elle sortit de sa retraite,
En lui disant: "[Console-toi]4,
Tu n'as perdu que la Fauvette!"

About the headline (FAQ)

View original text (without footnotes)
1 Bizet, Diémer: "tant fait"
2 Bizet: "destin"
3 Bizet: "Et sensible"
4 Bizet: "Console-toi, console-toi, Myrtil, console-toi, ah !"

Authorship

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

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

  • ENG English (Linda Godry) , "An old song", copyright © 2007, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • GER German (Deutsch) (Linda Godry) , "Ein altes Lied", copyright © 2007, (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: 24
Word count: 136

An old song
Language: English  after the French (Français) 
The besotted Myrtill
Has caught in the woods the dainty warbler;
You, my lovely bird, he told him:
Are meant to be a present for my shepherdess
If I offer you for a present
She will show her gratitude with kisses, if my Lucette
usually gives me two for a bouquet
for such a present it will be ten for sure for the warbler.

The warbler however 
had his mate in the valley
And as soon as possible wriggled free
and dashed away on clapping wings.
Och! Thought the despairing shepherd,
No more kisses from my Lucette!
All my hopes flew away
on the wings of the warbler!

Sadly Myrtil returned to the close wood
Mourning his loss.
But there, be it mere luck, be it destiny
Was his Lucette.
Well aware of his good intentions
She left her hideaway
And said: rest assured,
You only lost the warbler.

Authorship

  • Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2007 by Linda Godry, (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: 2007-05-17
Line count: 24
Word count: 149