by
Pierre de Ronsard (1524 - 1585)
Ange divin, qui mes playes embâme
Language: French (Français)
Available translation(s): ENG
Ange divin, qui mes playes embâme,
Le truchement et le heraut des dieux,
De quelle porte es-tu coulé des cieux,
Pour soulager les peines de mon ame ?
Toy quand la nuit par le penser m'enflame,
Ayant pitié de mon mal soucieux,
[Ore en mes bras, ore devant]1 mes yeux,
Tu fais [errer]2 l'idole de ma Dame.
Las! où fuis-tu ? [arreste]3 encore un peu :
Que vainement je me soye repeu
De ce beau [sein]4 dont l'appétit me ronge,
Et de ces [flancs]5 qui me font trespasser ;
Sinon d'effet, souffre au moins que par songe
Toute une nuit je les puisse embrasser.
J. Castro sets stanzas 3-4
About the headline (FAQ)
View original text (without footnotes)
1 Boni: "Or' dans mes bras, ores dedans"
2 Boni: "noüer"
3 Castro: "atten"
4 Boni: "corps"
5 Boni: "yeux"
Authorship:
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Guillaume Boni (c1530 - c1594), "Ange divin, qui mes playes embâme", published 1607 [vocal quartet], from the collection Sonnets de Pierre de Ronsard mis en musique à 4 parties, II, no. 7, Paris, Pierre Ballard [
text verified 1 time
]
- by Jean de Castro (c1540 - c1600), "Las, où fuis tu?", stanzas 3-4. [
text verified 2 times
]
Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (David Wyatt) , title 1: "Holy Angel, who heals my wounds", copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this page: David Wyatt
This text was added to the website: 2015-02-26
Line count: 14
Word count: 104
Holy Angel, who heals my wounds
Language: English  after the French (Français)
Holy Angel, who heals my wounds,
The intermediary and herald of the gods,
From which of heaven’s gates did you slip
To lighten the pains of my soul?
When night-thoughts inflame me, you
Have pity on my anxious woes :
Now in my arms, now within my eyes
Binding the image of my Lady.
Ah, where are you rushing to? Stay just a little
That vainly I may look my fill
On that lovely [figure]1, hunger for which gnaws me,
And [that beautiful figure which makes]2 me die.
If not in reality, at least let me in dreams
Kiss them a whole night long.
View original text (without footnotes)
Note: this is a translation of Boni and Castro's versions.
1 Boni: "body"
2 Boni: "those beautiful eyes which make"
Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2015 by David Wyatt, (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.
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Based on:
This text was added to the website: 2015-02-26
Line count: 14
Word count: 104