by Jean Richepin (1849 - 1926)
Translation © by Corinne Orde

Au jardin de mon cœur
Language: French (Français) 
Available translation(s): ENG ITA
Quand vos yeux amoureux ne me sont point moroses,
Mon cœur est un jardin plein d'œillets et de roses.

Tout est joyeux, les fleurs, les couleurs, les odeurs,
Les abeilles vibrant, les papillons rôdeurs.

Les moineaux, les pinsons, les linots, les mésanges,
Tous les oiseaux grisés chantent comme des anges.

Le jet d'eau, qui gazouille aussi doux que du miel,
Semble un iris ayant pour fleur un arc-en-ciel.

Quand votre Majesté, madame, est satisfaite,
Au jardin de mon cœur tout le monde est en fête.

Mais quand vos yeux se font cruels et mécontents,
Adieu les fleurs et les oiseaux ! Adieu printemps !

Les roses, les œillets, se fanent sur leur tige.
Aucune abeille, aucun papillon n'y voltige.

Mésanges, et moineaux et linots et pinsons
S'en vont loin de chez moi pour chanter leurs chansons.

Ôtant son arc-en-ciel ainsi qu'on ôte un masque,
Le jet d'eau rauque et lourd sanglote dans sa vasque.

Tant que je n'ai pas vu vos regards adoucis,
Mon cœur est un jardin tout planté de soucis.

Confirmed with Les caresses, Nouvelle Édition, Paris, G. Charpentier, [no date], pages 34-35.


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 (Corinne Orde) , "In the garden of my heart", copyright © 2007, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • ITA Italian (Italiano) (Francesco Campanella) , "Al giardino del mio cuore", copyright © 2013, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Corinne Orde

This text was added to the website: 2007-11-20
Line count: 20
Word count: 172

In the garden of my heart
Language: English  after the French (Français) 
When your loving eyes are not being morose,
My heart is a garden full of carnations and roses.

All is joyful: the flowers, the colours, the smells,
The bees buzzing, the butterflies flitting.

The sparrows, the chaffinches, the linnets, the tits,
All the intoxicated birds are singing like angels.

The fountain, which gurgles as sweet as honey,
Seems like an iris whose flower is a rainbow.

When, madam, Your Majesty is satisfied,
In the garden of my heart the whole world celebrates.

But when your eyes become cruel and displeased,
Farewell, flowers and birds! Farewell, springtime!

The roses, the carnations wilt on their stems.
No bee, no butterfly alights there.

Tits and sparrows, and linnets and chaffinches
Fly away far from me to sing their songs.

Removing its rainbow as one removes a mask,
The hoarse and heavy fountain sobs in its basin.

As long as I have not seen your softened glances,
My heart is a garden all planted up with troubles.

Authorship:

  • Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2007 by Corinne Orde, (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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This text was added to the website: 2007-11-20
Line count: 20
Word count: 163