Translation Singable translation by Samuel Byrne (flourished 1889)

Le deuil au cœur
Language: French (Français) 
J'ai beau vouloir aimer, j'ai beau vouloir revivre;
L'affreuse lassitude en moi met sa langueur.
Et rien ne la secoue et rien ne me délivre,
Je dois pleurer toujours, car j'ai le deuil au cœur.

Je sens comme à travers la funèbre tenture
Je ne sais quoi de mort y dormir lourdement.
Et je reste à genoux près d'une sépulture
Et je passe ma vie à ce recueillement.

Vous qui, fouillant du cœur les tristes hécatombes,
Croyez en les sondant consoler nos douleurs,
Songez que le silence est le bienfait des tombes,
Et qu'à l'en droit qu'on foule il ne croît pas de fleurs.

Si vous voyez parfois qu'un pur regard se voile
Du désenschantement des avenirs lointains,
Ne troublez pas ces yeux qui cherchent une étoile
Et pleurent doucement sur tant d'astres éteints.

Note: the first two stanzas come from a poem by Elena Vacarescu (1864-1947) titled Le deuil au cœur; stanzas 3 and 4 are stanzas 4 and 2 of her poem Le silence.

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 [singable] (Samuel Byrne) , "My heart is full of sadness"


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: 134

My heart is full of sadness
Language: English  after the French (Français) 
To love I try but vainly, in vain I strive to rouse me;
A dull and heavy languor benumbs my weary senses.
And nought from me will shake it, and nought will liberate me,
Forever must I weep, my heart is full of sadness.

I feel that thro' the dark gloomy hangings of mourning
An icy sense of death comes and chills this drear heart.
And I stay on my knees near a lonely grave
And I pass all my life 'mid such meditations dark.

You people who are fond on bitter thoughts of dwelling
Believe by probing griefs you could so console them
Believe also that silence beseems the best our graveyards
And where the ground is trod, no flowers e'er will grow.

Sometimes if you perceive, a pure regard concealing,
Sorrows that fate may hold in a distant future
Do not trouble those glances that seek for a star bright
And weep softly over orbs, extinct long ago.

From the Lavigne score.

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)

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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: 160