Poème de l’amour et de la mer
Poem of love and the sea
Chausson (1890)
I L’air est plein d’une odeur exquise de lilas Qui, fleurissant du haut des murs jusqu’au bas, Embaument les cheveux des femmes. La mer au grand soleil va toute s’embraser, Et sur le sable fin qu’elles viennent baiser Roulent d’éblouissantes lames.
O ciel qui de ses yeux dois porter la couleur, Brise qui vas chanter dans les lilas en fleur Pour en sortir toute embaumée, Ruisseaux qui mouillerez sa robe, o verts sentiers, Vous qui tressaillerez sous ses chers petits pieds, Faites-moi voir ma bien-aimée!
II Et mon cœur s’est levé par ce matin d’été; Car une belle enfant était sur le rivage, Laissant errer sur moi des yeux pleins de clarté, Et qui me souriait un air tendre et sauvage.
Toi que transfiguraient la jeunesse et l’amour, Tu m’apparus alors comme l’âme des choses; Mon cœur vola vers toi, tu le pris sans retour, Et du ciel entr’ouvert pleuvaient sur nous roses.
III Quel son lamentable et sauvage Va sonner l’heure de l’adieu! La mer roule sur le rivage, Moqueuse, et se souciant peu Que se soit l’heure de l’adieu.
Des oiseaux passent, l’aile ouverte, Sur l’abîme presque joyeux; Au grand soleil la mer est verte, Et je saigne silencieux En regardant briller les cieux.
Je saigne en regardant ma vie Qui va s’éloigner sur les flots; Mon âme unique m’est ravie Et la sombre clameur des flots Couvre le bruit de mes sanglots.
Qui sait si cette mer cruelle La ramènera vers mon cœur? Mes regards sont fixés sur elle, La mer chante, et le vent moqueur Raille l’angoisse de mon cœur.
La mort de l’amour
IV Bientôt l’île bleue et joyeuse Parmi les rocs m’apparaîtra: L’île sur l’eau silencieuse Comme un nénuphar flottera.
A travers la mer d’améthyste Doucement glisse le bateau, Et je serai joyeux et triste De tant me souvenir _ bientôt!
V Le vent roulait les feuilles mortes; mes pensées Roulaient comme les feuilles mortes, dans la nuit. Jamais si doucement au ciel noir n’avaient lui Les milles roses d’or d’où tombent les rosées.
Une danse effrayante, et les feuilles froissées, Et qui rendaient un son métalique, valsaient, Semblaient gémir sous les étoiles, et disaient L’inexprimable horreur des amours trépassées.
Les grands hêtres d’argent que la lune baisait Étaient des spectres: moi, tout mon sang se glaçait En voyant mon aimée étrangement sourir.
Comme des fronts de morts nos fronts avaient pâli, Et, muet, me penchant vers elle, je pus lire Ce mot fatal écrit dans ses grands yeux: l’oubli.
VI Le temps des lilas et le temps des roses Ne reviendra plus à ce printemps ci; Le temps des lilas et le temps des roses Est passé, le temps des œillets aussi.
Le vent a changé, les cieux sont moroses, Et nous n’irons plus courir, et cueillir Les lilas en fleur et les belles roses; Le printemps est triste et ne peut fleurir.
Oh! joyeux et doux printemps de l’année Qui vins, l’an passé, nous ensoleiller, Notre fleur d’amour est si bien fanée, Las! que ton baiser ne peut l’éveiller!
Et toi, que fais-tu? pas de fleurs écloses, Point de gai soleil ni d’ombrages frais; Le temps des lilas et le temps des roses Avec notre amour est mort à jamais.
I The air is filled with an exquisite scent of lilac which, flowering from the top of the walls to the bottom, perfumes the women’s hair. The whole sea goes to the great sun to be set aglow, and, over the fine sand which they come to kiss, dazzling waves roll.
Oh sky which has to wear the colour of her eyes, breeze which goes to sing in the lilacs in bloom so as to come out of them all scented, streams which will moisten her dress, o green paths, you who tremble beneath her dear little feet, let me see my beloved!
II And my heart arose on this summer’s morning; for a beautiful girl was on the beach, letting eyes full of brightness wander over me, and which smiled to me with a tender and wild expression.
You whom youth and love transfigured, you appeared to me like the soul of all things; my heart flew towards you, you took it forever, and roses rained upon us from the part-opened des sky.
III What mournful and wild sound will sound the hour of farewell! The sea rolls over the beach, teasing, and hardly concerning itself that it is the hour of farewell.
Birds pass by, wings outspread, nearly joyful over the deep; in the full sun the sea is green, and, silent, I bleed looking at the heavens shining.
I bleed as I look at my life about to depart over the waves; my very soul is taken from me and the deep clamour of the waves covers the sound of my sobs.
Who knows if this cruel sea will guide her back towards my heart? My stare is fixed on her, the sea is singing, and the mocking wind jeers at the anguish of my heart.
The death of love
IV Soon the blue and joyful isle will appear to me among the rocks: the isle will float upon the silent water like a water-lily.
Across the amethyst sea the boat gentle slips, and I shall be joyful and sad to remember so much _ soon!
V The wind rolled the dead leaves; my thoughts rolled like the dead leaves, in the night. Never had the thousands of golden roses, from which fall the dews, sparkled so softly in the black sky.
A terrifying dance, and the crumpled leaves which gave out a metallic sound, waltzed, seemed to moan beneath the stars, and told of the inexpressible horror of the dead loves.
The great silver beaches which the moon kissed were ghosts: me, all my blood froze upon seeing my beloved smiling strangely.
Our brows had paled like the brows of the dead, and, silent, leaning towards her, I was able to read that fatal word written in her large eyes: oblivion.
VI The season for lilac and the season for roses will not come back again to this spring; the season for lilac and the season for roses is passed, the season for carnations too.
the wind has changed, the skies are morose, and we shall never again go to run, and gather the lilac in bloom and the beautiful roses; the spring is sad and cannot blossom.
Oh! Joyful and sweet springtime of the year which came, last year, to light us with its sunshine, our flower of love is so withered, alas, that your kiss cannot awaken it!
And you, what are you doing? No flowers in bloom, no happy sun nor cool shade; the season for the lilac and the season for roses with our love has died forever.
Franz Liszt Petrarch Sonnets
Sonnet 47
E benedetto il primo dolce affanno Ch’i’ ebbi ad esser con Amor congiunto, E l’arco e la saette ond’ i’ fui punto, E le piaghe, ch’infino al cor mi vanno.
Benedette le voci tante, ch’io Chiamando il nome di Laura ho sparte, E i sospiri e le lagrime e ‘l desio.
E benedette sian tutte le carte Ov’io fama le acquisto, e il pensier mio, Ch’è sol di lei, si ch’altra non v’ha parte.
And blessed be the first sweet pang I suffered when love overwhelmed me, the bows and arrows which stung me, and the wounds which pierce to my heart.
Blessed be the many voices which have echoed when I have called Laura’s name, the sighs and tears, the longing;
and blessed be all those writings in which I have spread her fame, and my thoughts, which stem from her and centre on her alone.
Sonnet 104
Tal m’ha in priggion, che non m’apre, né serra, Né per suo mi ritien, né scioglie il laccio, E non m’uccide Amor, e non mi sferra; Né mi vuol vivo, né mi trahe d’impaccio.
Veggio senz’occhi; e non ho lingua e grido; E bramo di perir, e cheggio aita; Ed ho in odio me stesso, ed amo altrui:
Pascomi di dolor; piangendo rido; Egualmente mi spiace morte e vita. In questo stato son, Donna, per Voi.
Love has me in a prison which he neither opens nor shuts fast; he neither claims me for his own nor loosens my halter; he neither slays nor unshackles me; he would not have me live, yet leaves me with my torment.
Eyeless I gaze, and tongueless I cry out; I long to perish, yet plead for succour; I hate myself, but love another.
I feed on grief, yet weeping, laugh; death and life alike repel me; and to this state I am come, my lady, because of you.
Sonnet 123
E vidi lagrimar que’ duo bei lumi, Ch’han fatto mille volte invidia al sole; Ed udì’ sospirando dir parole Che farian gir i monti, e stare i fiumi.
Amor! senno! valor, pietate, e doglia Facean piangendo un più dolce concento D’ogni altro, che nel mondo udir si soglia.
Ed era ‘l cielo all’armonia s’intento Che non si vedea in ramo mover foglia. Tanta dolcezza avea pien l’aer e ‘l vento.
And I beheld tears spring from those two bright eyes, which many a time have put the sun to shame, and heard words unered with such sighs as to move the mountains and stay the rivers.
Love, wisdom, excellence, pity and grief made in that plaint a sweeter concert than any other to be heard on earth.
And heaven on that harmony was so intent that not a leaf upon the bough was seen to stir, such sweetness had filled the air and winds.
Chausson
Chanson Perpetuel
Vents, que vos plaintives rumeurs, Que vos chants, rossignols charmeurs, Aillent lui dire que je meurs!
Le premier soir qu’il vint ici Mon âme fut à sa merci. De fierté je n’eus plus souci.
Mes regards étaient pleins d’aveux. Il me prit dans ses bras nerveux Et me baisa près des cheveux.
J’en eus un grand frémissement; Et puis, je ne sais plus comment Il est devenu mon amant.
Je lui disais: « Tu m’aimeras Aussi longtemps que tu pourras! » Je ne dormais bien qu’en ses bras.
Mais lui, sentant son cœur éteint, S’en est allé l’autre matin, Sans moi, dans un pays lointain.
Puisque je n’ai plus mon ami, Je mourrai dans l’étang, parmi Les fleurs, sous le flot endormi.
Sur le bord arrêtée, au vent Je dirai son nom, en rêvant Que là je l’attendis souvent.
Et comme en un linceul doré, Dans mes cheveux défaits, au gré Du vent je m’abandonnerai.
Les bonheurs passés verseront Leur douce lueur sur mon front; Et les joncs verts m’enlaceront.
Et mon sein croira, frémissant Sous l’enlacement caressant, Subir l’étreinte de l’absent.
Winds, let your plaintive noises Let your songs, charming nightingales, Tell him that I die.
The first night he came here, My soul was at his mercy; I no longer cared about my pride.
My glances were full of promise. He took me into his trembling arms And kissed me near the hair.
I felt a great quivering. And then, I don’t know how He became my lover.
I said to him: “You will love me As long as you are able.” I never slept as well as in his arms.
But he, feeling his heart fade, Left the other day Without me, for a foreign land.
Since I no longer have my friend, I will die in this pool, among The flowers under the sleeping current.
Arriving on the shoreline, I will speak his name to the wind, In a dream that I await him there.
And like in a gilded shroud With hair tousled at the wind’s whim, I will let myself go.
The happy hours of the past will glimmer on my face, And the green reeds will entrap me.
And my breast, shuddering under the caress of their entwinement, will believe it submits to the embrace of the one who left.
Chausson
Le Charme
Quand ton regard tomba sur moi, Je sentis mon âme se fondre, Mais ce que serait cet émoi, Je ne pus d’abord en répondre.
Ce qui me vainquit à jamais, Ce fut un plus douloureux charme; Et je n’ai su que je t’aimais, Qu’en voyant ta première larme.
When your glance fell on me, I felt my soul melt, But what that emotion was, At first I could not answer it.
What conquered me forever, That was a charm more sad, And I did not know that I loved you, Until I saw your first tear.