by André Girod
Translation Singable translation by Susanna Myers

Fleur des blés
Language: French (Français) 
Our translations:  CAT ITA
Le long des blés que la brise
Fait onduler puis défrise
En un désordre coquet,
J'ai trouvé de bonne prise
De t'y cueillir un bouquet.

Mets-le vite à ton corsage, --
Il est fait à ton image
En même temps que pour toi...
Ton petit doigt, je le gage,
T'a déjà soufflé pourquoi :

Ces épis dorés, c'est l'onde
De ta chevelure blonde
Toute d'or et de soleil ;
Ce coquelicot qui fronde,
C'est ta bouche au sang vermeil.

Et ces bluets, beau mystère !
Points d'azur que rien n'altère,
Ces bluets ce sont tes yeux,
Si bleus qu'on dirait, sur terre,
Deux éclats tombés des cieux.

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):

  • CAT Catalan (Català) [singable] (Núria Colomer) , "Flor de blat", copyright © 2020, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • ENG English [singable] (Susanna Myers) , "Field Flowers"
  • ITA Italian (Italiano) (Enrico Magnani) , "Fiori del grano", copyright © 2009, (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: 20
Word count: 103

Field Flowers
Language: English  after the French (Français) 
Amid the wheat that the breeze
Has ruffled in playful teasing,
Leaving disorder so gay,
Here I seize my chance to please you,
And pluck for you a sweet bouquet.

Place it lightly on your breast;
I made it in your image blest
And do you say, "Tell me why?"
A little bird, I have guessed,
Has already told you why!

First some ears of wheat, the flare
of your lovely hair,
Golden tresses full of sun;
Now the scarlet poppies fair,
These your lips that love has won.

And these bluets, how enchanting,
But of azure disconcerting,
These bluets are your own eyes,
No blue on this earth so dazzling,
Heaven's flow'rs fall'n from the skies.

From the Schirmer edition of Debussy (1954).

Text Authorship:

Based on:

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

    [ None yet in the database ]


Researcher for this page: Harry Joelson

This text was added to the website: 2010-02-07
Line count: 20
Word count: 117