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Ma bouche rit et ma pensee pleure Mon oeil s'esjoye et mon cuer maudit l'eure Qu'il ot le bien que sa senté dechasse Et le plaisir qui la mort me pourchasse Sans reconfort qui m'aide ne sequeure. Ha cueur pervers faulsaire et mensongier Dictes comment avez osé songier Que de faulcer ce que m'avez promis Puis qu'en ce point vous vous volez vengier Pensez bientost de ma vie abregier Vivre ne puis au point ou m'avez mis. Vostre pitié veult d'onques que je meure Mais rigueur veult que vivant je demeure Ainsi meurs vif et en vivant trepasse Mais pour celer le mal qui ne se passe Et pour couvrir la deul ou je labeure. Ma bouche rit et ma pensee pleure Mon oeil s'esjoye et mon cuer maudit l'eure Qu'il ot le bien que sa senté dechasse Et le plaisir qui la mort me pourchasse Sans reconfort qui m'aide ne sequeure.
Authorship:
- by Anonymous / Unidentified Author [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 Johannes Ockeghem (1410?25 - 1497), "Ma bouche rit" [text verified 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (David Wyatt) , title 1: "My lips are smiling", copyright © 2012, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: David Wyatt
This text was added to the website: 2012-09-10
Line count: 21
Word count: 152
My lips are smiling but my thoughts are crying My eye is happy but my heart curses the hour When it gained the good which chased away well-being And the pleasure which pursues me to death With no consolation to help or come to my aid. Ah, perverse, false, lying heart, Tell me how you dared dream Of going back on what you promised. Since on this point you wish to take revenge Think rather of shortening my life -- I cannot live in the condition where you've put me. Your pity perhaps wishes me to die, But your harshness wishes me to remain alive, So alive I die and living I pass away. But to conceal the pain which never passes And to cover the grief under which I labour, My lips are smiling but my thoughts are crying My eye is happy but my heart curses the hour When it gained the good which chased away well-being And the pleasure which pursues me to death With no consolation to help or come to my aid.
Authorship:
- Translation from Old French (Ancien 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.
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Based on:
- a text in Old French (Ancien français) by Anonymous/Unidentified Artist
This text was added to the website: 2012-09-10
Line count: 21
Word count: 176