by
James Joyce (1882 - 1941)
From dewy dreams, my soul, arise
Language: English
Our translations: DUT FRE
From dewy dreams, my soul, arise,
From love's deep slumber and from death,
For lo! the treees are full of sighs
Whose leaves the morn admonisheth.
Eastward the gradual dawn prevails
Where softly-burning fires appear,
Making to tremble all those veils
Of grey and golden gossamer.
While sweetly, gently, secretly,
The flowery bells of morn are stirred
And the wise choirs of faery
Begin (innumerous!) to be heard.
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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):
- by Eugene MacDonald Bonner (1889 - 1983), "From dewy dreams", published 1924 [sung text not yet checked]
- by Ross Lee Finney (1906 - 1997), "From dewy dreams, my soul, arise", 1952, published 1985, first performed 1975 [ voice and piano ], from Chamber Music, no. 15, Henmar Press [sung text not yet checked]
- by Rick Sowash (b. 1950), "From dewy dreams, my soul, arise", 1998 [ mezzo-soprano, viola, clarinet, flute, and piano ], from Along the River, no. 3 [sung text checked 1 time]
- by (Thomas) Gerard Victory (1921 - 1995), "From dewy dreams, my soul, arise", 1954 [ tenor, SATB chorus, and instrumental ensemble ], from Five Songs by James Joyce [sung text not yet checked]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- DUT Dutch (Nederlands) (Nicolaas (Koos) Jaspers) , copyright © 2009, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2009, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [
Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2008-01-24
Line count: 12
Word count: 68
Des rêves de rosée, mon âme, arrache‑toi
Language: French (Français)  after the English
Des rêves de rosée, mon âme, arrache-toi
Du profond sommeil de l'amour et de la mort,
Car regardez ! les arbres sont remplis de soupirs,
Eux dont le matin admoneste les feuilles.
Vers l'est progressivement l'aube l'emporte
Où apparaissent des feux qui brûlent doucement,
Faisant trembler toutes ces gazes
De fils gris et dorés.
Tandis que doucement, tendrement, secrètement,
Les cloches fleuries du matin sont agitées
Et que les chœurs savants de la féerie,
Commencent (innombrables !) à se faire entendre.
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Text Authorship:
- Translation from English to French (Français) copyright © 2009 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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Based on:
This text was added to the website: 2009-11-04
Line count: 12
Word count: 80