The spaces of sleep | In the night there are naturally seven wonders

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by Robert Desnos (1900 - 1945)

Translation © by Garrett Medlock

Les espaces du sommeil

Language: French (Français)

Our translations: ENG

Dans la nuit il y a naturellement les sept merveilles
       du monde et la grandeur et le tragique et le charme.
Les forêts s'y heurtent confusément avec des créatures de légende 
       cachées dans les fourrés.
Il y a toi.
Dans la nuit il y a le pas du promeneur et celui de l'assassin 
       et celui du sergent de ville et la lumière du réverbère
       et celle de la lanterne du chiffonnier.
Il y a toi.
Dans la nuit passent les trains et les bateaux et le mirage des pays
       où il fait jour. Les derniers souffles du crépuscule
       et les premiers frissons de l'aube.
Il y a toi.
Un air de piano, un éclat de voix.
Une porte claque. Un horloge.
Et pas seulement les êtres et les choses et les bruits matériels.
Mais encore moi qui me poursuis ou sans cesse me dépasse.
Il y a toi l'immolée, toi que j'attends.
Parfois d'étranges figures naissent à l'instant du sommeil et disparaissent.
Quand je ferme les yeux, des floraisons phosphorescentes apparaissent
       et se fanent et renaissent comme des feux d'artifice charnus.
Des pays inconnus que je parcours en compagnie de créatures.
Il y a toi sans doute, ô belle et discrète espionne.
Et l'âme palpable de l'étendue.
Et les parfums du ciel et des étoiles et le chant du coq d'il y a 2,000 ans
       et le cri du paon dans des parcs en flamme et des baisers.
Des mains qui se serrent sinistrement dans une lumière blafarde
       et des essieux qui grincent sur des routes médusantes.
Il y a toi sans doute que je ne connais pas, que je connais au contraire.
Mais qui, présente dans mes rêves, t'obstines à s'y laisser deviner sans y paraître.
Toi qui restes insaisissable dans la réalité et dans le rêve.
Toi qui m'appartiens de par ma volonté de te posséder en illusion
       mais qui n'approches ton visage du mien que mes yeux clos
       aussi bien au rêve qu'à la réalité.
Toi qu'en dépit d'un rhétorique facile où le flot meurt sur les plages,
       où la corneille vole dans des usines en ruines,
       où le bois pourrit en craquant sous un soleil de plomb,
Toi qui es à la base de mes rêves et qui secoues mon esprit plein de métamorphoses
       et qui me laisses ton gant quand je baise ta main.
Dans la nuit, il y a les étoiles et le mouvement ténébreux de la mer,
       des fleuves, des forêts, des villes, des herbes,
       des poumons de millions et millions d'êtres.
Dans la nuit il y a les merveilles du mondes.
Dans la nuit il n'y a pas d'anges gardiens mais il y a le sommeil.
Dans la nuit il y a toi.
Dans le jour aussi.

Text Authorship:

by Robert Desnos (1900 - 1945), "Les espaces du sommeil", written 1926, appears in Corps et Biens, in À la Mystérieuse, no. 3 [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 Georges Boeuf (b. 1937), "Les espaces du sommeil", 1986, first performed 1987 [ medium voice and piano ], from À la Mystérieuse, no. 2 [sung text not yet checked]
by Witold Lutoslawski (1913 - 1994), "Les espaces du sommeil", 1975 [ baritone and piano ] [sung text checked 1 time]

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

ENG English (Garrett Medlock) , "The spaces of sleep", copyright © 2019, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 46
Word count: 455

The spaces of sleep

Language: English after the French (Français)

In the night there are naturally seven wonders
of the world and grandeur and tragedy and charm.
The forests there clash confusedly with legendary creatures
hidden in the thickets.
There you are.
In the night there are the steps of the walker and those of the murderer
and those of the town policeman and the lamppost light
and those of the ragman’s lantern.
There you are.
In the night pass the trains and boats and the mirage of the lands
where it is day. The last breaths of twilight
and the first shivers of dawn.
There you are.
A piano’s tune, a [voice’s] sputter.
A door slams. A clock.
And not only beings and things and material sounds.
But still [myself] who pursues me or ceaselessly overtakes me.
There you are, the immolated one, you for whom I wait.
Sometimes strange figures are born at the moment of sleep and disappear.
When I close my eyes, phosphorescent bloomings appear
and fade and are reborn like fleshy fireworks.
Unknown lands which I cross in the company of creatures.
There you undoubtedly are, oh beautiful and discreet spy.
And the tangible soul of the expanse.
And the scents of the sky and the stars and the song of the rooster from 2000 years ago
and the peacock’s cry in flaming parks and kisses.
Hands clasping mournfully in a pale light
and axletrees creaking on stupefied roads.
There you undoubtedly are what I do not know, what I know on the contrary.
But [you] who, present in my dreams, persist to let yourself be perceived without appearing there.
You who remain imperceptible in reality and in [dreaming].
You who belong to me by my desire to possess you in illusion
but [whose face] approaches mine only [when] my eyes [are] closed
as in [dreaming] just as in reality.
You who, in spite of an easy rhetoric where the flood dies on the beaches,
where the crow flies in [ruined] factories,
where the wood rots cracking under a blazing sun¹,
You who are at the base of my dreams and who shake my mind full of metamorphoses
and leave me your glove when I kiss your hand.
In the night, there are stars and the dark movement of the sea,
of rivers, forests, towns, grasses,
of lungs of millions and millions of beings.
In the night there are the wonders of the world.
In the night there are no guardian angels, but there is sleep.
In the night there is you.
In the day, also.

View original text (without footnotes)
¹ literally, "sun of lead"

Text Authorship:

Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2019 by Garrett Medlock, (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 Robert Desnos (1900 - 1945), "Les espaces du sommeil", written 1926, appears in Corps et Biens, in À la Mystérieuse, no. 3
- Go to the text page.

This text was added to the website: 2019-08-19
Line count: 46
Word count: 421