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Persian Songs
Translations © by Laura Prichard
Song Cycle by Charles Camille Saint-Saëns (1835 - 1921)
View original-language texts alone: Mélodies persanes
Comme des chevreaux piqués par un taon, Dansent les beautés du Zaboulistan. D'un rose léger sont teintés leurs ongles, Nul ne peut les voir, hormis leur sultan. Aux mains de chacune un sistre résonne ; Sabre au poing, se tient l'eunuque en turban Mais du fleuve pâle où le lys sommeille, Sort le vent nocturne, ainsi qu'un forban. Il s'en va charmer leurs cœurs et leurs lèvres, Sous l'œil du jaloux, malgré le firman. Ô Rêveur, sois fier. Elle a, cette brise, Pris tes vers d'amour pour son talisman.
Authorship:
- by Armand Renaud (1836 - 1895), "La brise", appears in Les nuits persanes, in 2. Gazals en N, first published 1870
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Laura Prichard) , "The breeze", copyright © 2021, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Confirmed with Les nuits persanes par Armand Renaud, Paris, Alphonse Lemerre, 1870, pages 37-38.
Research team for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Ted Perry
Just like goats bitten by a horsefly, Dance the beauties of Zabulistan. A light coat of rose tints their nails; None may see them, save the sultan. In each hand, a sistrum resounds; A sabre is clenched in the fist of the turbaned eunuch. But by the pale river where the lilies sleep, The night wind starts up like a pirate. He goes off to charm their hearts and their lips, Under a pair of jealous eyes, in spite of the firman. Oh dreamer, be proud. It has, this breeze, Taken your words of love for its talisman.
Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2021 by Laura Prichard, (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 Armand Renaud (1836 - 1895), "La brise", appears in Les nuits persanes, in 2. Gazals en N, first published 1870
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Translator's notes.
- Stanza 1, Line 2. Zābulistān (from the Persian زابلستان) is the Persian name for a part of modern Afghanistan near the Hindu Kush; it literally means "the land of Zābul.” During the Medieval Islamic era, it was known as an exotic lush and fertile river valley.
- Stanza 1, Line 5. A sistrum is a rattle or shaker (usually metal), depicted in both ancient Roman and Egyptian art; it consists of an oblong frame on a handle with percussive beads suspended on rods or wires.
- Stanza 2, Line 4. A firman, (from the Persian فرمان (farmân, “command, order, decree”) is a royal decree issued by a sovereign in certain historical Islamic states, especially by sultans.
This text was added to the website: 2021-03-05
Line count: 12
Word count: 98
J'ai construit dans mon âme Un merveilleux palais, Plein d'odeurs de cinname, Plein de vagues reflets. Saphir, ambre, émeraude En couvrent les piliers ; En silence il y rôde Des lions familiers. Dans l'ivoire des coupes, Sur les tapis profonds, Des monarques par groupes Y boivent les vins blonds. Isolés comme une île, Les murs s'en vont plongeant Dans la nappe tranquille D'un lac de vif argent. Et tout semble immobile, Et pourtant tout grandit, S'élargit, tache d'huile, Monte et s'approfondit. Et de l'onde muette, Et du palais sans bruit, Un feu qui se projette De plus en plus reluit. Mais, à ce qui m'enchante, Deux choses font défaut : Là-dedans rien ne chante, Le ciel est noir là-haut. Oh ! pour un son de lyre, Oh ! pour le moindre azur, Je laisserais porphyre, Perles fines, or pur. Mais le seul qui les donne, L'amour doux et cruel, M'interdit ma couronne D'harmonie et de ciel. Et plus tout luit, tout monte, Tout devient vaste et beau, Plus la douleur me dompte, Plus je suis un tombeau.
Authorship:
- by Armand Renaud (1836 - 1895), "La splendeur vide", appears in Les nuits persanes, in 5. La solitaire, first published 1870
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Laura Prichard) , "Empty splendor", copyright © 2021, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Confirmed with Les nuits persanes par Armand Renaud, Paris, Alphonse Lemerre, 1870, pages 79-81.
Researcher for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
I have constructed in my soul A marvellous palace, Full of scents of cinnamon, Full of rippled reflections. Sapphire, amber, emerald Cover the pillars; In silence there, prowl Some sociable lions. From ivory goblets, On thick carpets, Monarchs in groups Drink golden wines. Insulated like an island, The palace walls plunge Into the tranquil surface Of a lake of quicksilver. And everything seems immobile, And yet everything is magnified, Spreading out, like an oil spill, It rises and deepens; And over the mute waters, And from the noiseless palace, A reflected flame shoots up and Grows brighter. But, amidst all this enchantment, Two things are problematic: Within nothing sings, and The sky is black above. Oh, for the sound of a lyre, Oh, for the palest blue, I could forget this porphyry, Fine pearls, and pure gold. But the only thing that would restore them, With a love sweet and cruel, Forbids me my crown Of harmony and heaven; And so everything shines, everything rises, Everything grows vast and beautiful, The more the pain subdues me, The more I am in my grave.
Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2021 by Laura Prichard, (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 Armand Renaud (1836 - 1895), "La splendeur vide", appears in Les nuits persanes, in 5. La solitaire, first published 1870
Go to the single-text view
This text was added to the website: 2021-03-05
Line count: 40
Word count: 183
Ô fier jeune homme, ô tueur de gazelles, Cavalier pâle au regard de velours, Sur ton cheval dont les pieds ont des ailes, Emporte-moi vers le ciel des amours. J'ai bien souvent, la nuit, sur ma terrasse, Versé des pleurs en te tendant les bras. Stérile effort ! C'est l'ombre que j'embrasse, Et mes sanglots, tu ne les entends pas. Pourtant le ciel m'a faite ardente et belle, Ma lèvre douce est comme un fruit vermeil ; J'ai dans la voix des chants de colombelle, Sur les cheveux un rayon de soleil. Mais enfermée et couverte de voiles, Dans un palais, je meurs loin du vrai bien. Pourquoi des fleurs et pourquoi des étoiles, Si mon cœur bat et si tu n'en sais rien ? Mon bien-aimé, terribles sont tes armes, Ton long fusil, ta lance, ton poignard, Et, plus que tout, tes yeux aux sombres charmes, Perçant un cœur avec un seul regard. Ô fier jeune homme, ô tueur de gazelles, À leur destin mon sort est ressemblant ; Sur ton cheval dont les pieds ont des ailes, Joins mon cœur triste à ton butin sanglant.
Authorship:
- by Armand Renaud (1836 - 1895), "Mélancolie", appears in Les nuits persanes, in 5. La solitaire, first published 1870
See other settings of this text.
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Laura Prichard) , copyright © 2021, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Confirmed with Les nuits persanes par Armand Renaud, Paris, Alphonse Lemerre, 1870, pages 75-76.
Researcher for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
Oh proud young man, oh hunter of gazelles, Pale horseman with a velvety glance, Upon your steed with winged feet, Transport me to a heaven full of love. I’ve often, at night, on my terrace, Wept tears while reaching toward you. Vain effort! It’s merely a shadow that I embrace, And my sobs, you can’t hear them. Yet the sky makes me feel passionate and beautiful, My soft lips are cherry red; My voice sounds like the cooing of doves, My hair glows under the sun’s rays. But imprisoned and veiled, Inside the palace, I die far from my true love. Asking the flowers and the stars, why Does my heart still beat - don’t you know? My beloved, so terrible are your weapons, Your long rifle, your lance, your dagger, And worst of all, your dark, enchanting eyes, That can pierce a heart with one glance. Oh proud young man, oh hunter of gazelles, His destiny and mine are one and the same. Upon your steed with winged feet, Toss in my sad heart among your bloody loot.
Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2021 by Laura Prichard, (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 Armand Renaud (1836 - 1895), "Mélancolie", appears in Les nuits persanes, in 5. La solitaire, first published 1870
Go to the single-text view
Translations of titles
"Mélancolie" = "Melancholy"
"La Solitaire" = "Alone"
This text was added to the website: 2021-03-11
Line count: 24
Word count: 179
J'ai mis à mon cheval sa bride, Sa bride et sa selle d'or ; Tous les deux, par le monde aride, Nous allons prendre l'essor. J'ai le cœur froid, l'œil sans vertige. Je n'aime et je ne crains rien. Au fourreau, mon sabre s'afflige. Qu'il sorte et qu'il frappe bien ! Le turban autour de la tête, Sur mon dos le manteau blanc, Je veux m'en aller à la fête Où la mort danse en hurlant ; Où, la nuit, on brûle les villes, Tandis que l'habitant dort, Où, pour les multitudes viles, On est grand quand on est fort. Je veux qu'à mon nom les monarques Tiennent leur tête à deux mains, Que mon sabre enlève les marques Du joug au front des humains. Je veux que l'essaim de mes tentes, De mes chevaux aux longs crins, Que mes bannières éclatantes, Mes piques, mes tambourins Soient sans nombre comme la horde Des mouches, quand il fait chaud, Qu'à mes pieds l'univers se torde, Comprenant le peu qu'il vaut !
Authorship:
- by Armand Renaud (1836 - 1895), "Sabre en main", appears in Les nuits persanes, in 7. Fleurs de sang, first published 1870
See other settings of this text.
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Laura Prichard) , "Saber in hand", copyright © 2021, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Confirmed with Les nuits persanes par Armand Renaud, Paris, Alphonse Lemerre, 1870, pages 117-118.
Research team for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Ted Perry
I’ve bridled my horse and saddled him in gold. We two, through this arid world, Will dash away. I have a cold heart, an unwavering gaze. I love nothing and I fear nothing. In its sheath, my saber chafes. May it soon be drawn and strike true! A turban around my head, On my back, a white cloak, I want to join the revelry Where Death is in full howl; A place where, at night, one torches the towns While the inhabitants slumber, Where, compared to the lowly masses, One is greatest when one is strong. I’d like, at the sound of my name, for monarchs To hide their heads in their hands, And for my saber to cut away the brands Of servitude from the foreheads of humanity. I long for the throng of my tents, Of my long-maned horses, For my dazzling banners, My pikes, my tambourines, They might be limitless, like a swarm Of flies as the weather grows warm, So that at my feet the whole universe bows, Understanding how little they matter to me!
Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2021 by Laura Prichard, (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 Armand Renaud (1836 - 1895), "Sabre en main", appears in Les nuits persanes, in 7. Fleurs de sang, first published 1870
Go to the single-text view
Translator's note for stanza 1, line 4: "prendre son essor" is a French expression that means to take flight, to soar up, to flourish
This text was added to the website: 2021-03-11
Line count: 28
Word count: 179
Assis sur cette blanche tombe Ouvrons notre cœur ! Du marbre, sous la nuit qui tombe, Le charme est vainqueur. Au murmure de nos paroles, Le mort vibrera ; Nous effeuillerons des corolles Sur son Sahara. S'il eut, avant sa dernière heure, L'amour de quelqu'un, Il croira, du passé qu'il pleure, Sentir le parfum. S'il vécut, sans avoir envie D'un cœur pour le sien, Il dira : J'ai perdu ma vie, N'ayant aimé rien. Toi, tu feras sonner, ma belle, Tes ornements d'or, Pour que mon désir ouvre l'aile Quand l'oiseau s'endort. Et sans nous tourmenter des choses Pour mourir après, Nous dirons : Aujourd'hui les roses, Demain les cyprès !
Authorship:
- by Armand Renaud (1836 - 1895), "Au cimitière", appears in Les nuits persanes, in 6. La vallée de l'union, first published 1870
See other settings of this text.
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Laura Prichard) , "At the cemetery", copyright © 2021, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Confirmed with Les nuits persanes par Armand Renaud, Paris, Alphonse Lemerre, 1870, pages 102-103.
Research team for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Ted Perry
Seated on this white tomb Let us open our hearts! This marble, as night falls, Its charm conquers all. At the murmuring of our voices, The dead man below will vibrate; We’ll pluck the flower petals From his Sahara. If he had, before his last hour, The love of someone, He’ll believe, about the past he mourns, That he can still smell its fragrance. If he’d lived, without wanting Another’s heart for his own, He’ll say: I’ve lost my life, as I’ve loved nothing. You’ll jingle, my beauty, Your golden ornaments, To make my desire take wing As the birds fall asleep. And without fretting over things Only to die afterwards, We’ll say: Today roses, Tomorrow cypresses!
Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2021 by Laura Prichard, (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 Armand Renaud (1836 - 1895), "Au cimitière", appears in Les nuits persanes, in 6. La vallée de l'union, first published 1870
Go to the single-text view
Translator's notes: Saint-Saëns accompanies the simple vocal line with a minstrel-like strummed accompaniment.
This text was added to the website: 2021-03-06
Line count: 24
Word count: 117
Subtitle: Songe d'opium
Sans que nulle part je séjourne, Sur la pointe du gros orteil, Je tourne, je tourne, je tourne, À la feuille morte pareil ; Comme à l'instant où l'on trépasse, La terre, l'océan, l'espace, Devant mes yeux troublés tout passe, Jetant une même lueur ; Et ce mouvement circulaire, Toujours, toujours je l'accélère, Sans plaisir comme sans colère, Frissonnant malgré ma sueur. Dans les antres où l'eau s'enfourne, Sur les inaccessibles rocs, Je tourne, je tourne, je tourne, Sans le moindre souci des chocs. Dans les forêts, sur les rivages; À travers les bêtes sauvages, Et leurs émules en ravages, Les soldats qui vont sabre au poing, Au milieu des marchés d'esclaves, Au bord des volcans pleins de laves, Chez les Mogols et chez les Slaves, De tourner je ne cesse point. Soumis aux lois que rien n'ajourne, Aux lois que suit l'astre en son vol, Je tourne, je tourne, je tourne ; Mes pieds ne touchent plus le sol. Je monte au firmament nocturne ; Devant la lune taciturne, Devant Jupiter et Saturne, Je passe avec un sifflement, Et je franchis le Capricorne, Et je m'abîme au gouffre morne De la nuit complète et sans borne Où je tourne éternellement.
Authorship:
- by Armand Renaud (1836 - 1895), "Tournoiement", appears in Les nuits persanes, in 10. Songes d'opium, , first published 1870
Go to the single-text view
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Laura Prichard) , "Inebriation", subtitle: "Opium dream", copyright © 2021, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Confirmed with Les nuits persanes par Armand Renaud, Paris, Alphonse Lemerre, 1870, pages 189-191.
Research team for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Ted Perry
Without pausing in hesitation, On my tippy-toes, I turn, I turn, I turn, Like a falling leaf; Just as at the moment we cross over, The earth, the ocean, space, Before my troubled eyes, they all pass, radiating the same glow; And I continue my circular movements, Always, always accelerating, With as little pleasure as anger, Shivering in my own sweat. In caves where water plunges, Above the inaccessible rocks, I turn, I turn, I turn, Without the slightest concern for harm. In the forests, on the shorelines; Past the savage beasts And their ravaging rivals, Soldiers go with saber in hand, Into the heart of the slave markets, Near volcanoes brimming with lava, Into the homes of Mongols and Slavs, And I never stop turning. Subject to laws which no one is above, To laws governing stars in flight, I turn, I turn, I turn; My feet no longer touching the earth. I ascend into the night sky, Past the taciturn moon, Past Jupiter and Saturn I pass with a whistle, And I cross the constellation Capricorn, And I disappear into the gloomy chasm Of complete and limitless night Where I turn eternally.
Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2021 by Laura Prichard, (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 Armand Renaud (1836 - 1895), "Tournoiement", appears in Les nuits persanes, in 10. Songes d'opium, , first published 1870
Go to the single-text view
Subtitle: "Opium dream"
This text was added to the website: 2021-03-11
Line count: 36
Word count: 194