Gabriella Swallow, Richard Bonynge and Sally Silver

GMCD 7393
� 2012 Guild GmbH
© 2012 Guild GmbH
Guild GmbH
Switzerland
Gabriella Swallow, Richard Bonynge and Sally Silver

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JULES MASSENET (1842-1912)
Ivre d’amour – Intoxicated with love – Grégoire d‘Akhtamar 3:24
C’est l’amour – It’s love – Victor Marie Hugo (1802-1885) 1:33
Ma petite mère a pleuré – My mother cried – Paul Barthélemy Jeulin (1863-1936), Paul Gravollet [pseudonym] 2:42
Sérénade de Zanetto – Zanetto’s Serenade – François Coppée (1842-1908) 1:41
Il pleuvait – It was raining – Armand Silvestre (1837-1901) 1:58
Si tu l’oses! – If you dare! – Daniel García-Mansilla (1869-1957) 2:00
Élégie – Elegy – Louis Gallet (1835-1898) with Gabriella Swallow, cello 3:18
Quelques chansons mauves – Some Mauve Songs – André Lebey (1877-1938)
En même temps que ton amour – At the same time as your love 1:38
Quand nous nous sommes vus pour la première fois – When we saw each other for the very first time 1:41
Jamais un tel bonheur – Never has such happiness 1:20
Que l’heure est donc brève – How brief is the hour (Poème d‘avril, No.6) – Armand Silvestre (1837-1901) 1:20
Ave Maria – Original Latin Prayer 4:15
Guitare – Guitar – Victor Hugo (1802-1885) 1:11
Première danse – First dance – Jacques Clary Jean Normand (1848-1931) 2:13
La verdadera vida – Real life music by J. Massenet and Marc Berthomieu – Léon Guillot de Saix (1885-1964) 1:48
Amours bénis – Blessed love – André Alexandre (1860-1928) with Gabriella Swallow, cello 4:04
Chanson andalouse – Andalusian Song – Jules Ruelle (-1892) 3:19
Avril est amoureux – April is in love – Jacques d‘Halmont 2:27
Enchantement! – Enchantment! – Jules Ruelle (-1892) 2:28
Quand on aime – When you’re in love – Eugène Manuel (1823-1901) 1:32
Sonnet – Sonnet – Georges Pradel (1840-1908) 3:30
Pensée de printemps – Spring thought – Armand Silvestre (1837-1901) 2:34
À deux pleurer – Weeping together – Jean-Louis Croze (-1955) 1:56
Chanson désespérée – Desperate song – Edmond Teulet (1862-1934) 1:47
Soir de rêve – An evening’s dream – Antonin Lugnier (1869-1945) 2:09
Avec toi! – With you! – Julien Gruaz (1868-1952) 1:33
Crépuscule –Twilight (Poème Pastoral, No.5) – Armand Silvestre (1837-1901) 1:55
Jamais plus! – Never again! – Olga de Sarmento (1881-1948) 2:27
A GUILD DIGITAL RECORDING
• Recording Producer: Jeremy Silver
• Balance Engineer and Editor: Tony Philpot
• Executive Producer: Peter R. Shore
• Recorded: Potton Hall, Suffolk, 9-11 March 2012
• Final master preparation: Reynolds Mastering, Colchester, England
• Front cover picture: Spring Morning, Avenue Du Bois de Boulogne, by Louis de Schryver (1863-1942)
The Stapleton Collection / The Bridgeman Art Library
• English translations of the song texts by Jeremy Silver
• Design: Paul Brooks, Design & Print, Oxford
• Art direction: Guild GmbH
• Executive co-ordination: Guild GmbH
This recording is dedicated to the memories of Thomas Colville Stokoe (1942-2012) and Leonard Samuel
Silver (1928-2012) who were the loving fathers of Sally (née Stokoe) and Jeremy Silver.
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GUILD specialises in supreme recordings of the Great British Cathedral Choirs, Orchestral
Works and exclusive Chamber Music.
Guild GmbH, Moskau 314b, 8262 Ramsen, Switzerland
Tel: +41 (0) 52 742 85 00 Fax: +41 (0) 52 742 85 09 (Head Office)
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National Dance Awards at Covent Garden for services to ballet.
On 26 January 2012, Bonynge was promoted within the Order of Australia to Companion, for “eminent
service to the performing arts as an acclaimed conductor and musical scholar, to classical singing and the
promotion of opera, and through the collection and preservation of operatic manuscripts”.
This recital disc of songs by Jules Massenet with Richard Bonynge accompanying the soprano Sally Silver on
the piano follows their recording of songs by Michael William Balfe, and is to be followed by another recording of
songs by William Vincent Wallace for future release.
GABRIELLA SWALLOW
Belfast-born cellist Gabriella Swallow commenced her musical studies at Chethams’ School of Music. In 1999 she
was awarded an ABRSM Scholarship to study cello at the Royal College of Music. She graduated in 2003 and was
presented the prestigious Tagore Gold Medal by RCM President, HRH The Prince of Wales. Gabriella continued
as a Postgraduate Scholar at the RCM. In 2005 she graduated as a Master of Music with distinction.
In 1999 she founded the Sans Souci Piano Trio with violinist Elizabeth Cooney. In 2002 the trio reformed
with the renowned composer and pianist Huw Watkins. Dedicated to the performance of new and rare British trio
repertoire.
Gabriella’s solo performances include Edwin Roxburgh’s Partita , Tim Souster’s Sonata for Cello, Wind, Brass
and Percussion, concertos with the Norfolk Symphony Orchestra, and recently the world premiere of Mark-
Anthony Turnage’s A Few Serenades . She is the dedicatee of Jonathan Cole’s Elegy which features in the acclaimed
folio Spectrum for Cello. Gabriella performed the rarely heard Hugh Wood Cello Concerto with the Royal College
of Music’s Sinfonietta under Neil Thomson. She has collaborated with the dancer and choreographer Eva Recacha
on Xenakis’ solo cello work Kottos. Other festival appearances in the UK have included Dartington International
Summer School with the London Archduke Trio and the Snape Proms in Aldeborough.
Gabriella made her South Bank debut in 2007 as soloist with the London Sinfonietta in Mark-Anthony
Turnage’s About Water and also the world premiere of Paul Max Edlin’s cello concerto with the South Bank
Sinfonia at the Sounds New Festival. In 2009 she and percussionist Genevieve Wilkins founded their duo ‘The G
Project’ launched at the Forge, Camden in April 2010 performing new works by some of UK’s leading composers.
Equally as important as her classical collaborations Gabriella regularly performs and records with some of
the most prominent Jazz musicians on the scene. She has played as guest at Ronnie Scotts.
In June 2005 Gabriella was appointed Principal Cello of the London Contemporary Music Group.
She plays a cello by Charles Harris Snr made in Oxford in 1820.
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Jules Émile Frédéric Massenet (12 May, 1842 – 13
August, 1912) was born in Montaud, then an outlying
village and now part of the city of Saint-Étienne, in
the Loire. His father was a struggling metal worker
and when he was six, the family moved to Paris due to
his father’s ill-health. There his mother started taking
piano pupils. She also taught Jules who showed such a
natural aptitude that at the age of 11 he was admitted
to the Paris Conservatoire where he studied with the
famed operatic composer Ambroise Thomas.
In 1863 he won the Grand Prix de Rome
with his cantata David Rizzio and spent three years in
Rome. There he met Franz Liszt, at whose request he
gave piano lessons to Louise-Constance “Ninon” de
Gressy. Ninon became Massenet’s wife in 1866.
Massenet’s first opera, a one-act entitled La
Grand’ Tante, was produced at the Opéra Comique in
1867. In 1877 Massenet’s exotic opera Le Roi de Lahore
had a highly successful premiere at the Paris Opera,
marking the beginning of his ascendancy as France’s most prolific and celebrated operatic composer.
In 1878 Thomas invited him to become a professor at the Paris Conservatory, where Massenet achieved
considerable success, influencing an entire generation of French composers including Charpentier,
Chausson, Hahn, Enescu and Koechlin.
In 1876 he received the Légion d’honneur and was appointed a Grand Officer in 1899. In 1878, at the
age of 36, he became the youngest member ever elected to the Académie des Beaux-Arts.
In addition to his operas, Massenet composed concert suites, ballet music, oratorios, cantatas and
over two hundred and eighty songs, including eight song cycles, several collections and many individual
pieces. The earliest of Massenet’s song sketches date from August 1862 to poems of Victor Hugo and
Lamartine. His first song cycle, Poème d’avril, was written just a few years later to poems of Paul-Armand
Silvestre, who had become a close friend. Massenet set many of his poems over his career, as did several
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other well-known composers, among them Fauré and Delibes.
Massenet continued to write songs throughout his career. His choice of poets was wide-ranging,
with several great literary names (eg. Victor Hugo, Anatole France and Alphonse de Lamartine) rubbing
shoulders with less well-known writers. All his songs show great sensitivity to the setting of text, with
melodic lines and piano accompaniments encapsulating the emotions of the poetry with great skill. There
are simple, strophic songs with unobtrusive, non-melodic accompaniments (eg. Avril est amoureuse
and Guitare); more complex, through-composed narratives (eg. Ma petite mère a pleuré and Sonnet);
quiet, almost aphoristic expressions (eg. Crépuscule and Que l’heure est donc brève) contrasting with
more extrovert, expansive songs (eg. Enchantement and Ivre d’amour) or even dramatic, quasi-operatic
compositions (eg. Jamais plus!). His final proper cycle, Quelques chansons mauves, appeared in 1902 to
three poems of André Lebey. This cycle shows an ever greater inventiveness and freedom in the word
setting and open-ended musical forms. Phrases and even entire songs end harmonically inconclusively,
and the vocal line ranges from a simple parlando on one pitch to soaring melody where single syllables are
drawn out over two bars.
His last collection of songs, the Expressions lyriques were published in 1913, a year after his death.
Here the word setting is at its most varied: lyrical style, recitative, melodrama or what Massenet called
‘déclamation rythmée’, which seems to anticipate the Sprechstimme of Schoenberg. There is only one cycle
on this disc, the short Quelques chansons mauves, most of the other songs being individual compositions.
Two (Crépuscule and Que l’heure est donc brève) come from other cycles, the Ave Maria is based on the
Méditation from Massenet’s opera Thaïs, and one, La Verdadera Vida, was completed by the composer
Marc Berthomieu and not published until 1933.
Although interest in Massenet’s music declined soon after his death, Manon, Werther and Thaïs have
remained firm favorites in the opera repertoire. Esclarmonde is perhaps Massenet’s most ambitious work
for the stage and is his most Wagnerian in style and scope. The opera has been revived sporadically in the
modern era, most notably in 1974 in San Francisco, in 1976 at the Metropolitan Opera, New York and
in 1983 at the Royal Opera House in London with, on all occasions, Joan Sutherland in the title role,
conducted by her husband and long term Massenet champion Richard Bonynge.
Throughout his career Bonynge has conducted in most of the world’s leading opera houses.
By doing some research and reading up on Massenet, Richard Bonynge discovered Massenet’s own statement
about his opera Esclarmonde being his ”best achievement.” This filled Bonynge with curiosity, even more because
Esclarmonde had sunken almost into total oblivion and had hardly been performed at all since the end of the 19th
century. He obtained a vocal score of it in Paris and subsequently bought the full orchestral score from an auction
in New York City. Although his wife, initially, was skeptical about it, Richard Bonynge became an enthusiast of
the work and eventually convinced her that she should perform the role of ”Esclarmonde” herself. And so the San
Francisco Opera, the Metropolitan Opera and the Royal Opera House Covent Garden premieres of it took place
in 1974, 1976 and 1983 respectively.
In 1977 he was the founding Music Director of Vancouver Opera Orchestra (at its creation), when he
conducted Le Roi de Lahore staged there (in which also his wife took part).
Bonynge made his Metropolitan Opera debut in 1966 with Joan Sutherland performing the title role in Lucia
di Lammermoor. Over the last five decades, Bonynge also performed with many of the word’s great singers. He
worked extensively with Tebaldi, Caballé, Scotto, Te Kanawa, Gruberova, Horne, Bartoli, Cossotto, Berganza,
Domingo, Pavarotti, Kraus, Bergonzi, Aragall, Corelli, Gobbi, Siepi, Milnes, Ghiaurov and Ramey, etc. In the
beginning his speciality (until early 1970s) was music of 18th and early 19th century, mostly in bel canto repertoire
(Rossini, Bellini and Donizetti). He then gradually added also middle Verdi (La Traviata, Rigoletto, Il Trovatore),
Offenbach (Les Contes d’Hoffmann), then also Massenet (Esclarmonde and Werther). He has also recorded over
50 operas as well as Delibes’s three ballets – La Source, Coppélia and Sylvia and Tchaikovsky’s three ballets – Swan
Lake, The Sleeping Beauty and The Nutcracker plus countless others.
Since 2007, he has conducted a series of performances in opera houses around the U.S. and performed
regularly with Opera Australia where he was Musical Director from 1976 - 1986. During his tenure he introduced
works previously unheard in the 20th century: Alcina, Semiramide, Les Huguenots, Lucrezia Borgia, Maria
Stuarda, I Masnadieri, Dialogues of the Carmelites and Fra Diavolo. Over the past two years he has conducted a
new production of Bellini’s La Sonnambula for Opera Australia, La Flûte Magique for the Cuban Ballet Festival
and three Donizetti operas, Roberto Devereux, Maria Stuarda and Don Pasquale, in London and Athens and
returned to Sydney to conduct a concert version of Handel’s Rodelinda at the City Recital Hall Angel Place.
Richard Bonynge was made a Commander of the Order of the British Empire (CBE) for his services to music
in 1977. In 1983 he was made Officer of the Order of Australia, and in 1989 a Commandeur de L’Ordre Natioanl
des Arts et des Lettres. Made ”Socio d’onore”, R. Accademia Filarmonica di Bologna in 2007. In 2009 Bonynge
was awarded the Sir Richard Heinze Memorial Award and in 2010 the Patron’s Award within the Critics’ Circle
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SALLY SILVER
Sally Silver started her career in her native South Africa, soon becoming one of the country’s most renowned
singers appearing with all the major orchestras and opera companies and was awarded the OPSA prize for her
outstanding operatic achievements in South Africa.
Her extensive concert repertoire includes works by Bach, Handel, Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Mahler,
Berlioz, Rossini, Dvorak, Verdi and Richard Strauss. In addition she has premiered works commissioned for her
by Naresh Sohal: the Songs of Five Rivers (BBC Radio 3 broadcast with the BBC Symphony Orchestra) and Three
Songs from Gitanjali with the Dante Quartet at Spitalfields Festival and the Wigmore Hall, with the Edinburgh
String Quartet at the Dartington Festival and with the Medici String Quartet at the British Museum .
Sally has appeared throughout Europe in a wide range of operatic roles including Marguerite Les Huguenots
and Gilda Rigoletto in Metz; the four heroines Les Contes d’Hoffmann in The Netherlands, Rennes and Metz;
Duchess Powder her Face (Adès) in Nantes, Copenhagen, Metz, Amsterdam and Berlin; Contessa Le Nozze di
Figaro, Fiordiligi Così fan tutte for Longborough Festival Opera; Violetta La Traviata in The Netherlands and UK;
Lucia Lucia di Lammermoor, Elvira I Puritani and Angelica Orlando for Scottish Opera; Aenchen Der Freischütz
and Mila Palace in the Sky for ENO and recently Gounod’s Mireille for New Sussex Opera, Turnage’s Greek with
Music Theatre Wales, and Handel’s Amadigi at the Wigmore Hall.
Recordings include the role of Ariadne in The Bride of Dionysus by Sir Donald Tovey released on the Dutton
Epoch label and the title role in Lurline by William Vincent Wallace conducted by Richard Bonynge, available on
the Naxos label. On Guild she has released a CD of songs by Balfe, also with Richard Bonynge at the piano, and
there is a CD of the songs of William Vincent Wallace planned for imminent release.
RICHARD BONYNGE
Richard Bonynge, AC, CBE is an Australian conductor and pianist. He was born in Sydney in 1930 and educated
at Sydney Boys High School before studying piano at the NSW Conservatorium of Music. In London he studied
with Herbert Fryer, a pupil of Busoni and also became a coach for singers. One of these was Joan Sutherland,
whom he had accompanied in Australia. They soon married and became a duo, first (until 1962) doing recitals.
When the current conductor for a recital of operatic arias became ill, Bonynge stepped in and, from that time on,
conducted virtually all of his wife’s performances. Sadly Joan Sutherland passed away at their home in Switzerland
in October 2010.
His debut as staged opera conductor took place in 1963 in Vancouver, where he conducted Faust. The
same year, also in Vancouver, he conducted Norma for the first time, starring Sutherland and Marilyn Horne.
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[1] Ivre d’amour
Grégoire d’Akhtamar
Je suis ivre, je suis ivre d’amour,
le jour en plein soleil, la nuit dans mes rêves.
Je suis ivre, je suis ivre d’amour.
Le printemps s’est épanoui...
le jardin se pare de roses;
le rossignol chante doucement;
il brûle d’amour pour la rose vermeille.
Je suis ivre, je suis ivre d’amour,
le jour en plein soleil, la nuit dans mes rêves.
Je suis ivre, je suis ivre d’amour.
O soleil! o lune! Étoile du matin! O Vénus!
Tu es une perle, un diamant précieux...
Je suis ivre, je suis ivre d’amour,
le jour en plein soleil, la nuit dans mes rêves.
Je suis ivre, je suis ivre d’amour.
[2] C’est l’amour
Victor Marie Hugo (1802-1885)
Oh oui! la terre est belle et le ciel est superbe;
Mais quand ton sein palpite et quand ton oeil reluit,
Quand ton pas gracieux court si léger sur l’herbe,
Que le bruit d’une lyre est moins doux que son bruit ;
Quand brille sous tes cils, comme un feu sous les branches,
Ton beau regard terni par de longues douleurs;
Quand sur les maux passés tout-à-coup tu te penches,
Que tu veux me sourire et qu’il te vient des pleurs;
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[1] Intoxicated with love
Grégoire d’Akhtamar
I am intoxicated, intoxicated with love,
the daytime in the sunlight, the night time in my dreams
I am intoxicated, intoxicated with love.
Spring has bloomed
The garden is adorned with roses
The nightingale sings gently;
He is burning with love for the crimson rose.
I am intoxicated, intoxicated with love,
the daytime in the sunlight, the night time in my dreams
I am intoxicated, intoxicated with love.
O sun! O moon! Star of the morning! O Venus!
You are a pearl, a precious diamond…
I am intoxicated, intoxicated with love,
the daytime in the sunlight, the night time in my dreams
I am intoxicated, intoxicated with love.
[2] It’s love
Victor Marie Hugo
Ah yes! The earth is beautiful and the sky is superb;
But when your breast throbs and your eye shines,
When your graceful step runs so lightly on the grass,
So that the sound of a lyre is less gentle than its sound;
When under your eyelashes, like a fire under the branches,
Your beautiful gaze glistens, softened by prolonged grief;
When you suddenly dwell on past unhappiness
And you want to smile at me but only tears come;

Ce qui sort à la fois de tant de douces choses,
Ce qui de ta beauté s’exhale nuit et jour,
Comme un parfum formé du souffle de cent roses,
C’est bien plus que la terre et le ciel, – c’est l’amour!
[3] Ma petite mère a pleuré
Paul Barthélemy Jeulin (1863-1936), Paul Gravollet
[pseudonym]
Ma petite mère a pleuré,
Longtemps, longtemps, de grosses larmes...
J’en avais le cœur déchiré;
Elle a pleuré de grosses larmes!
J’aurais voulu la consoler
Comme elle toujours me console,
Mais je n’ai pas osé parler,
Puis, que dire qui la console...
D’où lui venait ce grand chagrin?
Qui donc lui faisait de la peine?
Je n’ai rien demandé, j’ai craint
De lui faire encor plus de peine.
Oh! ces longs sanglots étouffants...
Pauvre maman, maman chérie!
Qu’ils font mal aux petits enfants
Les pleurs de leur maman chérie!
Doucement je me suis blotti
Contre sa poitrine oppressée
Et sous mes baisers, j’ai senti
Sa poitrine moins oppressée.
Enfin sous ses longs cils soyeux
La gaîté revint, quelle joie!
Et quand j’eus bien séché ses yeux,
Longuement j’ai pleuré de joie!
What arises at the same time as so many gentle things,
What emanates from your beauty night and day,
Like a perfume made from the breath of a hundred roses,
It’s much more than the earth and the sky - it’s love!
[3] My mother cried
Paul Barthélemy Jeulin, Paul Gravollet [pseudonym]
My mother cried
A long time, big tears…
My heart was torn in two;
She cried big tears!
I would have liked to console her
Like she always consoles me,
But I dared not speak,
After all, what could I say that would console her…
Where did this huge grief come from?
Who was hurting her?
I asked nothing,
I was afraid of hurting her even more.
Oh! Those long, stifling sobs…
Poor, dear mother!
How the tears of their dear mother
Hurt little children!
I gently nestled
Against her unhappy breast
And under my kisses
I felt her unhappiness lift.
At last, under her long, silky eyelashes
Happiness returned, what joy!
And when I had finished drying her eyes
I wept for joy!
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[27] Crépuscule
from Poème Pastoral, No. 5
Armand Silvestre (1837-1901)
Comme un rideau, sous la blancheur
De leurs pétales rapprochées,
Les lys ont enfermé leur coeur,
Les coccinelles sont couchées.
Et jusqu’au rayon matinal,
Au coeur même des lys cachées,
Comme en un rêve virginal,
Les coccinelles sont couchées.
Les lys ne dorment qu’un moment;
Veux-tu pas que têtes penchées,
Nous causions amoureusement?
Les coccinelles sont couchées.
[28] Jamais plus!
Olga de Sarmento (1881-1948)
Dans un nuage d’or et de pourpre glissant,
Le soleil est entré dans sa couche vermeille.
De ce cratère en feu le regard s’émerveille;
Puis tristement la nuit sur la terre descend.
C’est ainsi, l’âme en deuil, que j’ai vu disparaître,
Au sein d’illusions auxquelles j’avais foi,
Le beau soleil d’amour qui rayonnait en moi:
Et maintenant la nuit couvre et glace mon être.
Le soleil, lui, revient et ramène le jour,
Mais, doux rêve du cœur, divine poésie
Qui parfume notre âme et charme notre vie,
«Jamais plus!» sort cruel! «ne reviendra l’amour!»
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[27] Twilight
from Poème Pastoral, No. 5
Armand Silvestre
Like a curtain, under the whiteness
Of their closed petals,
The lilies have enclosed their hearts
And the ladybirds have gone to bed.
And until the morning light
Hidden in the very heart of the lilies
As if in a virginal dream,
The ladybirds have gone to bed.
The lilies only sleep for a moment.
Shall we not lean our heads together
And talk of love?
The ladybirds have gone to bed.
[28] Never again!
Olga de Sarmento
Gliding into a gold and purple cloud
The sun entered its ruby bed.
One gazes in wonder at this crater on fire
Then sadly night descends on the earth.
This is how, my soul in mourning, I saw disappear
into the core of illusions in which I believed,
the beautiful sun of love which shone inside me:
And now the night covers and freezes my being.
The sun itself returns and brings back the day,
But, sweet dream of my heart, divine poetry
Which perfumes our soul and enchants our life,
“Never again!” cruel fate! “will love come back!”
Translations: © Jeremy Silver, 2012
[4] Sérénade de Zanetto (Sérénade du passant)
François Coppée (1842-1908)
Zanetto, chantant dans le lointain
Mignonne, voici l’Avril!
Le soleil revient d’exil;
Tous les nids sont en querelles;
L’air est pur, le ciel léger,
Et partout on voit neiger
Des plumes de tourterelles.
Fuis le miroir séduisant
Où tu nattes à présent
L’or de tes cheveux de fée;
Laisse là rubans et noeuds,
Car les buissons épineux
T’auront bientôt décoiffée.
Prends, pour que nous nous trouvions,
Le chemin des papillons
Et des frêles demoiselles;
Viens, car tu sais qu’on t’attend
Sous le bois, près de l’étang
Où vont boire les gazelles!
[5] Il pleuvait
Armand Silvestre (1837-1901)
Il pleuvait... l’épaisseur des mousses
Filtrait une tiède vapeur
Qui montait sous les feuilles rousses.
Il pleuvait… la chère mignonne avait peur.
Elle avait peur... pour ses pieds frêles
Chaussés de satin virginal
Et comme un oiseau matinal
Avec des frémissements d’ailes.
Il pleuvait…
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[4] Zanetto’s Serenade (Serenade of a passer-by)
François Coppée
Zanetto, singing in the distance
My dear, Spring has arrived!
The sun returns from exile,
There’s a commotion in all the nests;
The air is pure, the sky light,
And everywhere are falling like snow
The feathers of turtle doves.
Turn away from the seductive mirror
Where you are braiding
Your golden fairy hair;
Leave behind ribbons and bows,
For the thorny bushes
will soon have disheveled your hair.
So that we may find ourselves,
Follow the path taken by the butterflies
and the waiflike young girls.
Come, for you know someone is waiting for you
In the woods, next to the pond
Where the gazelles come to drink!
[5] It was raining
Armand Silvestre
It was raining… the thickness of the moss
exuded a warm vapour
Which rose up under the russet leaves.
It was raining… the dear, sweet girl was frightened.
She was frightened… for her dainty feet
in shoes of virginal satin,
And like a bird in the morning
with quivering wings.
It was raining…

Comme un cygne sous le duvet
J’enfermais ses blanches épaules
Et je l’emportais vers les saules,
Je l’emportais dans mes bras tremblants…
Il pleuvait...
[6] Si tu l’oses!
Daniel García-Mansilla (1869-1957)
Viens plus près, tout près t’asseoir,
Viens, pour te conter des choses!
Je me sens très fou ce soir,
Peut-être sont-ce les roses
Rouges dans tes roux cheveux?
Donne ta tête, je veux!
Quand tu ris, ton œil de brune
Est vert comme un vert gazon.
C’est si drôle, ta chanson,
Que je sens un clair de lune
Dans mon cœur! Je ris beaucoup
De voir comme est blanc ton cou.
Au fond de tes yeux étranges
Brille comme un feu follet
Sous tes cils aux larges franges,
Et je le guette affolé.
Tu te tais, toujours tu gloses?
Regardons-nous, si tu l’oses!
[7] Élégie
Louis Gallet (1835-1898)
Ô doux printemps d’autrefois,
Vertes saisons,
Vous avez fui pour toujours!
Like a swan under its downy coat
I wrapped her white shoulders
And carried her towards the willow trees,
I carried her in my trembling arms…
It was raining…
[6] If you dare!
Daniel García-Mansilla
Come closer, sit very close,
Come so I can tell you things!
I feel wild this evening,
Perhaps it’s because of the red roses
In your red hair?
Give me your head, I want it!
When you laugh, your brown eyes
are green as the grass.
It’s so funny, your song
That I feel a moonlight
In my heart! I laugh so much
To see how your neck is so white.
Deep in your strange eyes
it shines like a will-o’-the-wisp
under your long eyelashes,
And I watch, half-crazed.
You are silent, do you not always speak?
Look at us, if you dare!
[7] Elegy
Louis Gallet
Au jardin de mon rêve,
Hélas! l’heure fut brève
Que fixa ton vouloir;
Mais, éternelle Ivresse!
Mon coeur t’eut pour maîtresse,
Tout un beau soir!
[26] Avec toi!
Julien Gruaz (1868-1952)
Avec toi courir dans les plaines
Et dans les bois,
Et n’y chercher que joies sereines
Et doux émois.
Poursuivre à deux sous les verdures
Nos longs chemins
Sans redouter les aventures
Des lendemains.
Boire au cristal bleu des fontaines,
Sources du ciel,
Et puiser dans le creux des chênes
Le premier miel,
Et le soir à l’heure embrasée,
Ange léger,
Ta tête sur moi reposée,
Te voir songer,
Ne plus du tout penser au monde
Et chaque jour
Goûter, dans une paix profonde
Tout notre amour !
O sweet springtime of days gone by,
Green seasons,
You have fled forever!
8 21
In the garden that was my dream,
Alas! Brief was the time
that you decided to stay;
But, eternal intoxication!
My heart had you as its mistress
For a whole, beautiful evening!
[26] With you!
Julien Gruaz
To run with you on the plains
And in the woods,
And only to find there serene joy
And sweet emotions.
To pursue our long journeys together
in the open air
Without fearing the adventures
Of the future.
To drink at the blue crystal of the fountains,
Springs from heaven,
And to reach deep inside the oak trees
For the first honey,
And at the twilight hour,
Delicate angel,
Your head resting on me,
To see you dream,
To think no more about the world
And every day
To taste, in profound peace,
All our love!

Si je pouvais aimer encore
C’est toi seule que l’aimerais ;
Car je crois voir lever l’aurore
Quand diaphane, tu parais;
Comme toi l’Autre était belle,
Tout son être savait charmer.
J’ai peur de toi, je crus en elle...
Je ne sais plus aimer.
Hélas! Hélas !
Je ne peux plus chanter...
Je ne peux pas pleurer...
Je ne sais plus aimer.
[25] Soir de rêve
Antonin Lugnier (1869-1945)
Au bosquet de ta lèvre
J’ai butiné la fièvre
Qui consumait ton coeur,
Et l’étreinte farouche
Fit passer en ma bouche
Le feu vainqueur.
Au bûcher de mon âme
L’étrange et douce flamme
Allait jeter l’effroi;
Tes yeux, fraîches fontaines,
Apaisèrent mes peines
Et mon émoi.
Au lac des vagues blondes
Que font, masses profondes,
Tes cheveux, lac vermeil,
Je voulus, fou candide,
Prendre ton front timide
Pour mon soleil.
20
If I could still love
It’s you alone that I would love.
For I think I see the dawn break
When, translucent, you appear.
Like you, the Other was beautiful,
Her whole being could charm.
I’m afraid of you, I believed in her…
I am unable to love.
Alas! Alas!
I can no longer sing…
I can longer cry…
I am unable to love.
[25] An evening’s dream
Antonin Lugnier
In the grove that was your lips
I gathered the fever
Which was consuming your heart,
And the wild embrace
Passed into my mouth
The conquering fire.
In the fire that was my soul
The strange and gentle flame
Extinguished fear;
Your eyes, cool fountains,
Soothed my pain
And my turmoil.
In the lake that was the blond waves
Made by the heavy masses
Of your hair, a rosy lake,
I wanted, naïve and foolish,
To take your timid forehead
For my sun.
Je ne vois plus le ciel bleu,
Je n’entends plus les chants joyeux des oiseaux!..
En emportant mon bonheur,
Ô bien aimé, tu t’en es allé!
Et c’est en vain que revient le printemps!
Oui, sans retour, avec toi, le gai soleil,
Les jours riants sont partis!
Comme en mon coeur tout est sombre et glacé!
Tout est flétri!
Pour toujours!
[8]-[10] Quelques Chansons Mauves
André Lebey (1877 - 1938)
I
En même temps que ton amour,
Apporte-moi ton coeur blessé.
Je sais de longues voluptés
Dont nous épuiserons les jours.
En même temps que ta beauté,
Apporte-moi tes souvenirs;
Je saurai les faire mourir
Par la fièvre de nos baisers.
En même temps que ta tendresse,
Apporte-moi tes fleurs fanées;
Mon âme a de douces rosées
Qui refleuriront leur tristesse.
II
Quand nous nous sommes vus pour la première fois,
J’ai entendu chanter derrière toi
Des voix…
Au fond de l’aveu doux de ton sourire frêle
J’ai vu, tout en te remarquant très belle,
Des ailes…
9
I no longer see the blue sky,
I no longer hear the joyous songs of the birds!
Carrying my happiness with you,
My love, you went away!
And it’s in vain that Spring returns!
Yes, never to return, the bright sun
And those days of laughter have left with you!
How dark and icy it is in my heart!
All is withered!
Forever!
[8]-[10]Some Mauve Songs
André Lebey
I
At the same time as your love,
Bring me your wounded heart.
I know of lingering pleasures
With which we can fill the days.
At the same time as your beauty,
Bring me your memories;
I will be able to extinguish them
With the fever of our kisses.
At the same time as your affection,
Bring me your withered flowers;
My soul has sweet dewdrops
Which will turn their sadness back into bloom.
II
When we saw each other for the very first time
I heard, singing behind you,
Voices…
Deep in the sweet confession of your delicate smile
I saw, while observing how beautiful you are,
Wings…

Et quand je t’ai revue ensuite, un autre jour,
J’ai vu sur nous et planer tout autour
L’amour…
III
Jamais un tel bonheur
Ne m’a rempli le coeur:
Je t’aime.
Jamais tant de tendresse
N’a bercé ma jeunesse:
Je t’aime.
Jamais tant d’infini
N’a bleui mon ciel gris:
Je t’aime.
Jamais un tel baptême
Ne m’a sacré moi-même:
Tu m’aimes.
[11] Que l’heure est donc brève
from Poème d’avril, No. 6
Armand Silvestre (1837-1901)
Que l’heure est donc brève,
Qu’on passe en aimant !
C’est moins qu’un moment,
Un peu plus qu’un rêve.
Le temps nous enlève
Notre enchantement.
Que l’heure est donc brève,
Qu’on passe en aimant!
Sous le flot dormant
Soupirait la grève;
M’aimas-tu vraiment?
10
And when I saw you again, another day,
I saw, hovering above and around us,
Love…
III
Never has such happiness
Filled my heart:
I love you.
Never did such feelings
Enchant my youth:
I love you.
Never has such immensity
Coloured my grey sky blue:
I love you.
Never has such a baptism
Blessed my very self.
You love me.
[11] How brief is the hour
from Poème d’avril, No. 6
Armand Silvestre
How brief is the hour
That we spend loving!
It’s less than a moment,
A little more than a dream.
Time takes away from us
All our enchantments.
How brief is the hour
That we spend loving!
Under the sleeping waves
the shore kept on sighing;
Did you really love me?
[23] À deux pleurer
Jean-Louis Croze (-1955)
Comme vous dormiez, je n’ai pas osé
Heurter à la porte,
J’ai, timidement, pour vous déposé
Ce premier lilas, à peine rosé,
Que l’Avril m’apporte.
Comme vous chantiez un air triste et las
En notes jolies,
Je me suis caché, je ne voulais pas
Troubler d’un aveu, même fait tout bas,
Vos mélancolies.
Comme vous pleuriez, j’ai dit: Me voici.
Le chagrin rassemble...
Et mêlant ma peine à votre souci,
Nous avons connu le bonheur ainsi,
En pleurant ensemble!
A deux pleurer!...
[24] Chanson désespérée
Edmond Teulet (1862–1934)
Si je pouvais chanter encore
Je te dirais:
Viens dans mes bras !
Viens écouter mon cœur sonore,
A sa chanson tu vibreras;
Mais j’ai tant chanté la méchante,
Pour lui plaire et pour l’exalter,
Que devant ta grâce naissante,
Je ne peux plus chanter...
Hélas! Hélas !
19
[23] Weeping together
Jean-Louis Croze
As you were sleeping, I did not dare
Knock at the door,
I timidly put down for you
This first lilac, hardly in flower,
That April brings me.
As you were singing a sad and weary song
In pretty notes
I hid, I did not want
To disturb your melancholy with an avowal,
even made very quietly.
As you were weeping, I said, “I am here”.
Sorrow gathers people together…
And combining my pain with your troubles
We found happiness
While we wept together!
Weeping together!….
[24] Desperate song
Edmond Teulet
If I could still sing
I would say to you:
Come into my arms!
Come and listen to my resounding heart,
You will be stirred by its song;
But I have sung so often of the wicked one,
To please her and exalt her,
That, faced with your growing attraction,
I can sing no more…
Alas! Alas!

Célébraient du matin les premières clartés;
Et moi, j’étais assis pensif au pied d’un chêne.
Malgré le doux printemps, mon âme était en peine;
Je l’attendais. Soudain... des pas précipités
Foulèrent le gazon... ivres de voluptés
Dans un tendre baiser se mêla notre haleine...
En serrant dans mes bras ce corps souple et si beau,
Mon coeur contre le sien en étouffa la plainte;
Et sa main me rendit étreinte pour étreinte!
Le taillis nous couvrit de son épais manteau.
Le soleil se voila, les étoiles pâlirent,
La terre disparut... et les cieux s’entr’ouvrirent!
[22] Pensée de printemps
Armand Silvestre (1837-1901)
C’est l’espoir des beaux jours qui luit dans le ciel bleu,
Qui chante, au bord des eaux, dans le frisson des saules;
Et le soleil d’avril change en perles de feu
Les pleurs que le matin secoue à ses épaules.
L’âme des fleurs s’éveille au caprice de l’air
Qui porte sur nos fronts sa troublante caresse.
Enferme en toi, mon cœur, l’universelle ivresse.
Voici le temps d’aimer sous le ciel doux et clair.
Voici le temps de fuir vers les routes ombreuses
Où l’on marche à pas lents, une main dans la main,
Amoureux éperdus et blanches amoureuses,
Le temps de n’avoir plus, à deux, qu’un seul chemin!
Ah ! Tous les êtres épris se cherchent dans l’espace,
Blessés du même mal dont nul ne veut guérir.
L’âme des fleurs s’éveille au vent léger qui passe.
Voici venir le temps d’aimer et d’en mourir!
18
Were celebrating the first light of morning;
And I was sitting pensively at the foot of an oak tree.
Despite the gentle springtime, my soul was in torment;
I was waiting for her. Suddenly… hurried footsteps
Disturbed the ground… Intoxicated with pleasure
Our breath combined in a tender kiss.
Holding this supple and so beautiful body tightly in my arms,
My heart against hers calmed its suffering;
And her hand embraced me in return.
The undergrowth covered us with its thick coat,
The sun became hazy, the stars grew pale,
The earth disappeared… and heaven began to open!
[22] Spring thought
Armand Silvestre
It is the hope for beautiful days which shines in the blue sky,
Which sings, at the waterside, in the rustling of the willows;
And the April sun changes into pearls of fire
The tears which the morning shakes from their shoulders.
The souls of the flowers waken at the bidding of the air
Which brings its troubling caress to our foreheads.
Enclose within you, my heart, this universal intoxication.
Now is the time to love under the soft, clear sky.
Now is the time to flee towards those shadowy paths
Where one walks slowly, hand in hand,
He, overwhelmed in his love; she, innocent in hers,
The time to have nothing but one shared journey!
Ah! All love-struck beings search for each other in space,
Suffering the same sickness from which no-one wants a cure.
The souls of the flowers waken in the light, passing breeze.
Now is the time to love, and to die of it!
Fût-ce seulement
Un peu plus qu’un rève?...
Que l’heure est donc brève,
Qu’on passe en aimant!
[12] Ave Maria
Original Latin Prayer
Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum.
Benedicta tu in mulieribus,
et benedictus fructus ventris tui, Jesu.
Sancta Maria, Mater Dei,
ora pro nobis peccatoribus,
nunc et in hora mortis nostrae. Amen.
[13] Guitare
Victor Hugo (1802-1885)
Comment, disaient-ils,
Avec nos nacelles,
Fuir les alguazils ?
– Ramez, disaient-elles.
Comment, disaient-ils,
Oublier querelles.
Misère et périls ?
– Dormez, disaient-elles.
Comment, disaient-ils,
Enchanter les belles
Sans philtres subtils ?
– Aimez, disaient-elles.
11
Could it only have been
A little longer than a dream?
How brief is the hour
That we spend loving!
[12] Ave Maria
traditional translation
Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.
Blessed art thou among women,
and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.
Holy Mary, Mother of God,
pray for us sinners,
now and in the hour of our death. Amen.
[13] Guitar
Victor Hugo
How, asked the men,
with our small boats
can we flee the constables?
Row, replied the women.
How, asked the men,
can we forget quarrels,
Poverty and danger?
Sleep, replied the women.
How, asked the men,
can we enchant beauties
without subtle potions?
Love, replied the women.

[14] Première Danse
Jacques Clary Jean Normand (1848-1931)
Des bons vieux airs très connus
Marquant la cadence,
Avec des gestes menus
La fillette danse.
Elle va, vient, en sautant
Toujours avec grâce,
Et ce jeu nouveau pourtant
Point ne l’embarrasse.
Son pied sur le clair parquet
Glisse ou se dérobe,
Et son petit doigt coquet
Relève sa robe.
Cinq ans! et pas de leçons!
Mais c’est rusé, dame!
Et ça vous a des façons
De belle madame.
Ça se cambre avec orgueil,
Ça vous prend des poses,
Et déjà, du coin de l’oeil,
Ça vous dit des choses.
Ça vous dit: «Regardez-moi
Tourner et sourire;
Je suis charmante et, ma foi!
J’aime qu’on m’admire!
J’aime qu’on remarque aussi
Mon beau teint d’aurore;
Mon front blanc que nul souci
Ne ternit encore,
Ma chevelure en or fin
Qui mousse et rayonne…
12
[14] First dance
Jacques Clary Jean Normand
Marking the rhythm
Of the good, old familiar tunes,
With tiny gestures
The little girl dances.
She jumps this way and that
Always gracefully,
And yet remains unembarrassed
By this new game.
Her foot on the pale parquet floor
Slips in and out of sight,
And her little finger
Neatly lifts the hem of her dress.
Five years old! And no lessons!
But that’s so clever!
And doesn’t she look like
A real little lady!
She proudly arches her back,
And poses for you,
And already, from the corner of her eye,
She’s telling you things.
She’s saying, “Watch me
Turn and smile;
I’m charming, and really,
I love to be admired!
I love people to notice
My fresh complexion,
My white forehead
Unblemished by care,
My glistening waves
Of golden hair…
Ne fût-ce qu’un seul jour,
Viens près de moi, viens, je t’implore.
Que m’importe ton nom?..
Ange, Sylphe ou Démon,
Je suis à toi,
Viens, je t’appelle, je t’adore!
[20] Quand on aime
Eugène Manuel (1823-1901)
Quand on aime, on est tout léger!...
Comme un fin voilier, sans danger,
Court sur le flot que le vent plisse,
Et tout fier de son pavillon,
Creuse à peine un léger sillon:
On glisse!..
On a plus d’air dans les poumons
Que le pâtre au sommet des monts,
Ou dans les blés l’enfant qui glane.
Quand on aime, on est tout léger!
Toucher le sol, c’est déroger:
On plane!...
Mais pourquoi montagne ou vaisseau?
On a les ailes de l’oiseau,
Et des nuages on raffole,
En plein azur on croit nager;
Quand on aime, on est tout léger:
On vole!..
[21] Sonnet
Georges Pradel (1840 - 1908)
Les grands bois s’éveillaient, il faisait jour à peine
Dans le feuillage vert les oiseaux, enchantés,
17
Though it might be for just one day,
Come close to me, come, I beg you.
What matters to me your name?
Angel, sylph or demon,
I am yours.
Come, I call you, I adore you!
[20] When you’re in love
Eugène Manuel
When you’re in love, you feel so light!…
Like a slender sailing boat, in no danger,
Rides on the waves creased by the wind,
And all proud of its presence
Ploughs such a light furrow:
You’re gliding!..
You have more air in your lungs
Than the shepherd on the mountain tops,
Or the child gathering in the wheat.
When you’re in love, you feel so light!…
To touch the ground is to digress:
You’re soaring!…
But why talk of mountain or vessel?
You have the wings of a bird
And you’re crazy for the clouds,
You feel you’re swimming through the azure skies;
When you’re in love, you feel so light!…
You’re flying!..
[21]Sonnet
Georges Pradel
The great forests were waking, dawn was just breaking,
In the green foliage the birds, enraptured,

[19] Enchantement!
Jules Ruelle (-1892)
Comme un rayon qui luit,
Toi, qui viens dans la nuit,
Beauté qui m’as séduit
Et dont mon cœur chérit l’image,
Es-tu l’ange gardien,
Mystique et doux lien?
Es-tu l’almée, ou bien
Un adorable et vain mirage?
Es-tu le désespoir
Insensible à la plainte?
Viens-tu du gouffre noir
Ou de la sphère sainte?
Qu’importe!
En te cherchant,
Dans un rêve enivrant,
Mon cœur charmé plane et t’implore.
Ange, Sylphe ou Péri,
Ô toi qui m’as souri,
Qui donc es-tu?
Je n’en sais rien, mais je t’adore!
Pendant les soirs d’été,
Que de fois j’ai chanté!
Vaporeuse beauté,
Toujours tu gardes le silence.
Pourtant l’ardent soupir
Des fleurs et du zéphyr
Et le ciel de saphir,
Tout me révèle ta présence.
Parfois je fus ravi,
Croyant voir ton sourire
Éclairer l’infini...
Ah! j’étais en délire!
Entends mon cri d’amour!
16
[19] Enchantment!
Jules Ruelle
Like a shining ray of light
You, who come in the night,
You beauty who have seduced me
And whose image my heart cherishes,
Are you my guardian angel,
Mystical and sweet bond?
Are you a seductress, or rather
An adorable and vain illusion?
Are you despair,
Immune to complaint?
Do you come from the black abyss
or from the holy sphere?
What does it matter?
Seeking you
In an intoxicating dream,
My spellbound heart hovers and implores you.
Angel, sylph or peri,
Oh, you who have smiled on me
Who really are you?
I know nothing but that I adore you!
During Summer evenings
So many times have I sung!
Diaphanous beauty,
You always keep silent.
However the ardent sigh
Of the flowers and the west wind
And the sapphire sky,
Everything reveals to me your presence.
Sometimes I was overjoyed,
Believing I could see your smile
Lighting up the infinite…
Ah! I was delirious!
Hear my cry of love!
J’aime qu’on admire enfin
Toute ma personne!»
Et ce petit rien de rien,
Veut, du fond de l’âme,
Que chacun «la trouve bien!»
Ô fillette!.. ô femme!..
[15] La verdadera vida
music by J. Massenet and Marc Berthomieu
Léon Guillot de Saix (1885 - 1964)
La vie a mal guidé mes pas…
O mort accours à mon instance!
Pour qui la vie est un trépas,
La mort est la seule existence.
Après tous les humains débats
Il faut mourir afin de vivre,
Car notre existence ici-bas
N’est qu’une page d’un grand livre.
La vie est mon plus grand remords
La mort est ma plus grande envie
Puissé-je trouver dans la mort
Ce que tu cherches dans la vie.
[16] Amours bénis
André Alexandre (1860-1928)
Une aube fraîche... et printanière,
Avril ou Mai, je ne sais plus,
Des pleurs ont mouillé ma paupière,
Nos regards se sont confondus.
Un jour d’été, par la colline,
Vers le ciel nous montions tous deux;
13
In short, I love people to admire
All of me!”
And this little mite,
From the depths of her soul,
Wants everyone “to think she’s pretty!”
Oh, little girl!.. Oh, woman!..
[15] Real life
music by J. Massenet and Marc Berthomieu
Léon Guillot de Saix
Life has not guided my steps well…
O death, rush to my aid!
For whom life is a torment,
Death is the only existence.
After all human struggles
You must die in order to live,
For our existence down here
Is but one page of a large book.
Life is my greatest sadness,
Death my greatest desire.
If I could only find in death
What you seek in life.
[16] Blessed love
André Alexandre
A cool dawn…. in the springtime,
April or May, I no longer remember,
My eyelids were wet with tears,
Our gazes mingled.
One Summer day, on the hill,
We both were climbing towards the sky;

Mon cœur battait... heure divine!
Tu m’as fait tes premiers aveux.
Par un crépuscule d’automne,
Nos baisers ont chanté très doux,
Caressant l’aïeule bretonne
Qui dormait, rêvait près de nous.
Aveux, baisers, fleurette éclose
Pour qui je tremble et je pâlis.
Dans son berceau l’enfant repose:
Nos amours ont été bénis.
[17] Chanson Andalouse
Jules Ruelle (-1892)
Pourquoi chanter
L’amoureuse ivresse?
Pourquoi m’aimer?
Folle est ta tendresse!
Mon âme, un jour,
S’endormit glacée
Après un ardent baiser.
La flamme meurt effacée.
Comme un vain songe,
Un beau mensonge,
Je garde l’ardent baiser;
Pourquoi donc m’aimer?
Aux corridas
Dont Séville est fière.
Des Señoras
J’étais la première,
Et je riais quand à mon oreille
Un galant parlait tout bas…
L’amour toujours veille,
My heart was beating…. Divine hour!
You made your first declarations.
On an Autumn twilight
Our kisses sang very sweetly,
Gently reaching the Breton grandmother
Who was sleeping, dreaming near us.
Confessions, kisses, sweet nothings
At which I shake and grow pale.
In his cradle the child rests:
Our love has been blessed.
[17] Andalusian Song
Jules Ruelle
Why sing
Of loving intoxication?
Why love me?
Your affection is madness!
One day my soul
fell into a frozen sleep
After an ardent kiss.
The flame fades and dies.
Like a vain dream
A beautiful lie,
I hold on to the ardent kiss;
So why love me?
At the bull fights
which are the pride of Seville,
I was the most important
of the Señoras,
And I used to laugh
When a galant young man whispered in my ear…
Love is always on the lookout,
14
Il m’a surprise, hélas!
Aveu timide,
Heure rapide,
Langueur du premier amour,
Volupté d’un jour!...
Et dans les bois
Je vais, oublieuse,
Et nulle voix
Ne me rend joyeuse.
J’ai froid au cœur et l’amour frivole
A pris mon premier baiser.
D’amour la chanson est folle,
Pourquoi m’aimer?
Comme le rêve
Que l’aube achève,
Tu fuis volupté d’un jour,
Hélas! sans retour!
[18] Avril est amoureux
Jacques d’Halmont
Avril dort sous la lune blanche:
C’est la nuit douce aux amoureux;
La brise effleure chaque branche
Et caresse tes blonds cheveux.
Avril s’éveille et l’Amour chante!
M’amour, il faut ouvrir tes yeux!
La source dans sa chanson lente
Chante l’amour aux amoureux.
Avril rêve à des chants d’amour,
Il est amoureux des Étoiles!
Oh! m’amour, il a vu tes yeux,
Ce lac pur comme un ciel sans voiles!
15
And alas, it took me by surprise!
Timid declaration,
Rapid hour,
The languidness of first love,
The sensual pleasure of a day!…
And in the woods
I wander, forgetting everything,
And no voice
Makes me happy.
My heart is cold and frivolous love
Has stolen my first kiss.
The song of love is madness.
Why love me?
Like the dream
which ends with the dawn,
You escape, sensual pleasure of a day,
Alas, never to return!
[18] April is in love
Jacques d’Halmont
April sleeps under the white moon:
It’s a sweet night for lovers;
The breeze wafts over every branch
And caresses your blond hair.
April awakens and Love sings!
My love, you must open your eyes!
The slow song of the brook
Sings of love to all lovers.
April dreams of love songs,
She is in love with the stars!
Oh, my love, she has seen your eyes,
This pure lake like a cloudless sky!