by Anne Hunter (1742 - 1821)
Translation © by Guy Laffaille

Despair
Language: English 
Our translations:  DUT FRE HEB
The anguish of my bursting heart
Till now my tongue hath ne'er betray'd.
Despair at length reveals the smart;
No time can cure, no hope can aid.

My sorrows verging to the grave,
No more shall pain thy gentle breast.
Think, death gives freedom to the slave,
Nor mourn for me when I'm at rest.

Yet, if at eve you chance to stray
Where silent sleep the peaceful dead,
Give to your kind compassion way,
Nor check the tears by pity shed.

Whene'er the precious dew drop falls
I ne'er can know, I ne'er can see;
And if sad thought my fate recalls,
A sigh may rise unheard by me.

Text 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):

  • DUT Dutch (Nederlands) [singable] (Lau Kanen) , "Wanhoop", copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Désespoir", copyright © 2008, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • HEB Hebrew (עברית) (Hamutal Atariah) , "ייאוש", copyright © 2024, (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: 16
Word count: 110

Désespoir
Language: French (Français)  after the English 
L'angoisse de mon cœur éclaté,
Ma langue ne l'a encore jamais trahie.
Le désespoir à la longue révèle la douleur ;
Aucun temps ne peut la guérir, aucun espoir ne peut l'aider.

Mes chagrins qui conduisent à la tombe,
Ne peineront plus ton doux sein.
Pense, la mort libère l'esclave,
Et ne pleure pas pour moi quand je reposerai.

Pourtant, si le soir tu viens à errer
Où les morts paisibles dorment en silence,
Cède à ta douce compassion
Et ne retiens pas tes larmes : laisse les couler par pitié.

Si la goutte de la précieuse rosée tombe
Jamais je ne peux savoir, jamais je ne peux voir ;
Et si une pensée triste rappelle mon sort,
Un soupir peut s'élever : je ne l'entends pas.

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from English to French (Français) copyright © 2008 by Guy Laffaille, (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: 2008-04-08
Line count: 16
Word count: 123