by
Pierre de Ronsard (1524 - 1585)
Corydon, verse sans fin
Language: French (Français)
[Corydon,] verse sans fin
Dedans mon verre du vin,
Afin qu'endormir je face
Un procés qui me tirace
Le coeur et l'ame plus fort
Qu'un limier un sanglier mort.
Après ce procés ici
Jamais peine ne souci,
Ne feront que je me dueille:
Aussi bien, vueille ou non vueille,
Sans faire icy long sejour
Il faut que je meure un jour.
Le long vivre me déplaist:
Mal-heureux l'homme qui est
Accablé de la vieillesse!
Quand je perdray la jeunesse,
Je veux mourir tout soudain,
Sans languir au lendemain.
Ce-pendant verse sans fin
Dedans mon verre du vin,
Afin qu'endormir je face
Un procés qui me tirace
Le coeur et l'ame plus fort
Qu'un limier un sanglier mort.
About the headline (FAQ)
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 Louis Théodore Gouvy (1819 - 1898), "Verse sans fin", published 1876 [ voice and piano ], from 40 Poèmes de Ronsard, no. 30, Paris, Éd Simon Richault [sung text not yet checked]
- by Philippe de Monte (1521 - 1603), "Corydon" [sung text not yet checked]
- by Julien Tiersot (1857 - 1936), "Corydon", published 1924 [ vocal quartet and piano ], from Chansons de Ronsard, no. 14, Éd. 'Au Ménestrel' Heugel; a realization of a melody by Philippe de Monte [sung text not yet checked]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (David Wyatt) , "Pour unendingly", copyright © 2012, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this page: David Wyatt
This text was added to the website: 2012-07-25
Line count: 24
Word count: 117
Pour unendingly
Language: English  after the French (Français)
[Corydon,] pour wine unendingly
Into my glass!
In order to sleep, I face
A trial which gnaws at
My heart and soul more strongly
Than a bloodhound does a dead boar.
After this trial
Neither pain nor care
Will ever make me grieve for myself;
Just so, wish it or not,
I shall have to die one day
Without making a long stay here.
Living long displeases me:
Unfortunate the man who is
Burdened by old age!
When I lose my youth,
I want to die all of a sudden
Without dragging on day after day.
So - pour wine unendingly
Into my glass!
In order to sleep, I face
A trial which gnaws at
My heart and soul more strongly
Than a bloodhound does a dead boar.
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:
This text was added to the website: 2012-07-25
Line count: 24
Word count: 127