Charles Camille Saint-Sa?ns (1835 - 1921) Reverie(1851), 꿈, 환상 Natalie Dessay, French soprano Francoise Pollet,soprano 프랑소와즈 폴레 |
Puisqu'ici?bas toute ?me
Language: French (Fran?ais)
Puisqu'ici-bas toute ?me
Donne ? quelqu'un
Sa musique, sa flamme,
Ou son parfum;
Puisqu'ici[-bas]1 [chaque]2 chose
Donne toujours
Son ?pine ou sa rose
A ses amours;
[Puisqu'avril]3 donne aux ch?nes
Un bruit charmant;
Que la nuit donne aux peines
L'oubli dormant.
Puisque l'air ? la branche
Donne l'oiseau;
Que l'aube ? la pervenche
Donne un peu d'eau;
Puisque, lorsqu'elle arrive
S'y reposer,
L' oｎde am?re ? la rive
Donne un baiser;
Je te donne, ? cette heure,
Pench? sur toi,
La chose la meilleure
Que j'ai en moi!
Re?ois donc ma pens?e,
Triste d'ailleurs,
Qui, comme une ros?e,
T'arrive en pleurs!
Re?ois mes voeux sans nombre,
O mes amours!
Re?ois la flamme ou l'ombre
De tous mes jours!
Mes transports pleins d'ivresses,
Pur de soup?ons,
Et toutes les caresses
De mes chansons!
Mon esprit qui sans voile
Vogue au hazard,
Et qui n'a pour ?toile
Que ton regard!
Ma muse, que les heures
Bercent r?vant
Qui, pleurant quand tu pleures,
Pleure souvent!
Re?ois, mon bien c?leste,
O ma beaut?,
Mon coeur, dont rien ne reste,
L'amour ?t?!
As each soul here below
Language: English after the French (Fran?ais)
As each soul here below
Someone has lent,
Its music or its glow
Or its own scent;
As all things here below
To true love give
A thorn, or else a rose,
As they do live;
As April gives the oaks
A charming sound;
Night pain in kind sleep soaks,
Our cares to drown.
As air the small bird lends
Unto the branch
Dawn dew the flowers sends,
Their thirst to quench;
As when dark waves reach land
To take their rest,
They leave upon the strand
A sweet caress;
I give thee, at this hour,
Bent over thee,
The best that's in my power,
The best in me!
I give my thoughts so true,
Though sad they be,
Like glistening drops of dew
They fall on thee.
My vows uncounted claim
My love, always.
Receive the shade or flame
Of all my days.
My wildest transports greet,
Suspicions gone,
And each caress so sweet
Of this my song.
My spirit which, afar,
Drifts on the sea,
Its only gliding star
The sight of thee.
My muse, rocked by the hours
In dreamful sleep
Combines her tears with yours.
Full oft she weeps.
Take, heavenly creature,
O, my beauty,
My heart - its only feature
My love for thee.
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