Chansond’avril – Georges Bizet
April song
Get up! Get up! Spring is just new born.
Yonder above the valleys floats a vermilion space.
Everything is quivering in the garden, all is singing, and your
window, like a joyful glance, is full of sun.
Over there, by the lilacs with their violet clusters,
flies and butterflies buzz together;
and the wild lily-of-the-valley, swaying its little bells,
has woken love, asleep in the woods.
Since April has sown its white daisies,
leave aside your heavy coat and your cosy muff;
already the bird is calling you, and your sisters
the periwinkles will smile at you in the grass on seeing your blue eyes.
Come, lets go! In the morning the spring is more limpid;
let us not wait for the burning heats of daytime,
I want to wet my feet in the moist dew,
and to talk to you of love beneath the flowering pear trees!
© translated by Christopher Goldsack
De fleurs – Claude Debussy
In the tedium so desolately green
Of sorrow’s hothouse,
The Flowers entwine my heart
With their wicked stems.
Ah! when shall they return about my head,
Those dear hands, so tenderly disentwining?
The tall violet Irises
Wickedly violated your eyes,
While seeming to reflect them,
They, who were the dream-water
Into which my dreams plunged, so softly
Enclosed in their colour;
And the lilies, white pistil-scented fountains,
Have lost their white grace
And are but poor, sickly, sunless things!
Sun! friend of evil flowers,
Destroyer of dreams, destroyer of illusions,
This blessed wafer of wretched souls!
Come! Come! Redeeming hands!
Shatter the panes of mendacity,
Shatter the panes of evil,
My soul is dying of too much sun!
Mirages! The joy of my eyes will never reflower,
And my hands are weary of praying,
My eyes are weary of weeping!
Eternally this insane sound
Of tedium’s black petals
Falling drop by drop on my head
In the green of sorrow’s hothouse!
English translation © Richard Stokes
O wie sanft die Quelle – Brahms
Oh how gently the stream winds through the meadow!
Oh how beautiful when one love finds itself another!
Printemps qui commence
from Samson et Dalila
Springtime that’s returning,
with you comes new yearning, to hearts full of love. Your soft breeze that passes from earth soon effaces our unhappy days.
Our soul, filled with burning, your sweet flame discerning, soon drives our tears away.
You bring to the land, through your magical hand the fruit and the flowers
In vain am I fair! My heart filled with love,
Cries out for the heathen, awaits his return.
Surviving on hope, my desolate heard holds fast to te mem-ry of happiness past.
When nightfall arrives, I’ll go, pining lover,
To sit on the bank, await him in tears, and chase off my sadness.
If he comes back one day, he’ll feel my caress and the sweet drunken joy that a burning love keeps for his return!
Là ci darem la mano from Don Giovanni
There we will hold hands,
There you will say yes to me:
You see, it’s not far,
Let’s go, my dear, from here.
I would like to and I would not like to,
My heart trembles a little,
It’s true that I would be happy,
But he can mock me still!
Come, my lovely delight!
Masetto takes pity on me.
I will change your fate.
Quickly… I cannot resist any longer.
Let’s go!
Let’s go!
Let’s go, let’s go, my love,
To redeem the sufferings
Of an innocent love.
Barcarolle - Jacques Offenbach
Lovely night, oh, night of love
Smile upon our joys!
Night much sweeter than the day
Oh beautiful night of love!
Time flies by, and carries away
Our tender caresses for ever!
Time flies far from this happy oasis
And does not return
Burning zephyrs
Embrace us with your caresses!
Burning zephyrs
Give us your kisses!
Your kisses! Your kisses! Ah!
Lovely night, oh, night of love
Smile upon our joys!
Night much sweeter than the day
Oh, beautiful night of love!
Ah! Smile upon our joys!
Night of love, oh, night of love!
Ah! ah! ah! ah! ah! ah! ah! ah! ah! ah!