by William Wordsworth (1770 - 1850)
Translation Jean-Pierre Granger
But that night when on my bed I lay
Language: English
But that night When on my bed I lay, I was most mov'd And felt most deeply in what world I was; With unextinguish'd taper I kept watch, Reading at intervals; the fear gone by Press'd on me almost like a fear to come; I thought of those September Massacres, Divided from me by a little month, And felt and touch'd them, a substantial dread: The rest was conjured up from tragic fictions, And mournful Calendars of true history, Remembrances and dim admonishments. "The horse is taught his manage, and the wind Of heaven wheels round and treads in his own steps, Year follows year, the tide returns again, Day follows day, all things have second birth; The earthquake is not satisfied all at once." And in such way I wrought upon myself, Until I seem'd to hear a voice that cried To the whole City, "Sleep no more."
Text Authorship:
- by William Wordsworth (1770 - 1850), appears in The Prelude or, Growth of a Poet's Mind; An Autobiographical Poem, first published 1805 [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by (Edward) Benjamin Britten (1913 - 1976), "But that night when on my bed I lay", op. 60 no. 5, from Nocturne for tenor solo, seven obligato instruments and string orchestra, no. 5. [ sung text checked 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- CAT Catalan (Català) (Salvador Pila) , "Però aquella nit quan jeia al meu llit", copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Jean-Pierre Granger)
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: 149
Mais en cette nuit‑là
Language: French (Français) after the English
Mais en cette nuit-là Où j'étais allongé sur mon lit, je fus grandement troublé Et j'ai senti profondément en quel monde je me trouvais ; Avec une bougie encore allumée, je veillais, Lisant de temps en temps ; la peur tout juste passée M'oppressait presque autant que la peur à venir ; Je songeais à ces massacres de septembre, Séparés de moi d'à peine un mois seulement, Et je les éprouvais, les touchais, une terreur tangible : Le reste fut tramé de fables tragiques, De tristes chroniques de récits réels, De souvenirs et d'obscurs avertissements. » Le cheval est dressé dans le manège, et le vent Du ciel virevolte et vient fouler ses propes traces, Les années se suivent, la marée monte de nouveau, Les jours se suivent, toute chose appelle une seconde naissance ; Le séisme ne s'est pas à l'instant calmé. « Et ainsi je me suis tourmenté, Jusqu'à ce que j'aie l'impression d'entendre une voix crier À toute la cité : » Ne dormez plus. «
About the headline (FAQ)
The translator has released this translation into the public domain.Text Authorship:
- Translation from English to French (Français) by Jean-Pierre Granger
Based on:
- a text in English by William Wordsworth (1770 - 1850), appears in The Prelude or, Growth of a Poet's Mind; An Autobiographical Poem, first published 1805
This text was added to the website: 2010-10-07
Line count: 20
Word count: 163