When Bacchus possesses me | When Bacchus possesses me

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by Pierre de Ronsard (1524 - 1585)

Translation © by David Wyatt

Lorsque Bacchus entre chez moi

Language: French (Français)

Our translations: ENG

Lors que Bacchus entre chez moy
Je chasse incontinent l'esmoy,
Et ravi d'esprit il me semble
Qu'en mes bougettes j'ay plus d'or,
Plus d'argent, et plus de tresor
Que Mide, ny que Crœse ensemble.

Je ne veux rien sinon tourner
Par la danse, et me couronner
Le chef d'un tortis de lierre :
Je foule en esprit les honneurs,
Et les estats des grands Seigneurs
À coups de pied j'escraze à terre.

Page, verse du vin nouveau,
Arrache-moy hors du cerveau
Le soin, par qui le cœur me tombe.
Verse donc pour me l'arracher :
Il vaut mieux yvre se coucher
Dans le lict, que mort dans la tombe.

Note: the third stanza seems to be a variant of the second stanza of Ores que je suis dispos.

Text Authorship:

by Pierre de Ronsard (1524 - 1585) [author's text checked 1 time 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 Louis Théodore Gouvy (1819 - 1898), "Lorsque Bacchus entre chez moi", published 1876 [ voice and piano ], from 40 Poèmes de Ronsard, no. 34, Paris, Éd Simon Richault [sung text not yet checked]

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

ENG English (David Wyatt) , "When Bacchus possesses me", copyright © 2012, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2011-06-03
Line count: 18
Word count: 107

When Bacchus possesses me

Language: English after the French (Français)

When Bacchus possesses me
I straight away chase off concern
And with my spirit swept up it seems to me
I have more gold in my purse,
More silver and more treasure
Than Midas and Croesus together.

I want nothing but to get up
And dance, and to crown
My head with a twist of ivy.
In spirit I trample on the honours
And estates of great lords,
With stamping feet I crush them to dust.

Page, pour me some new wine
Uproot from my brain
Worry, which makes my heart droop.
Pour it then, to root it out.
Far better to lie down drunk
In daylight than dead in the tomb.

Text Authorship:

Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2012 by David Wyatt, (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.
Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net

Based on:

a text in French (Français) by Pierre de Ronsard (1524 - 1585)
- Go to the text page.

This text was added to the website: 2012-06-23
Line count: 18
Word count: 112