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Castillon (1873)

Doux réveil des bois et des prés,
D'or et de pourpre diaprés.
Rapide oublis des jour moroses.
Salut printemps, père des roses.
Si tu la revois sous la fleur
De sa virginale pâleur,
Dis à Dieu qu'il me la renvoie,
Celle qui fut toute ma joie,
Celle qui fait toute mon souci.

Voyant que je la pleure ainsi,
Printemps joyeux, ramène aussi
L'essaim des rires de sa bouche,
Doux bruit, dont mon cœur s'effarouche,
Bruit charmant, cruel et moqueur,
Ramène moi, printemps vainqueur,
L'amoureuse, que j'ai servie,
Celle qui fut toute ma vie,
Celle qui reste tout mon cœur.

Armand Silvestre



Sweet awakening of the woods and fields,
of gold and of many-hued purple.
swift forgetting of dismal days.
Hail Spring, father of roses.
Should you see her beneath the flower
of her chaste pallor,
tell God to send her back to me,
She who was all of my happiness,
She who causes my whole disquiet.

Seeing that I weep so for her,
merry Spring, bring back
the swarm of laughs from her lips,
sweet sound, of which my heart grows shy,
charming sound, cruel and mocking,
bring me back, victorious Spring,
she who is in love, whom I served,
She who was all my life,
She who remains my whole heart.

© translated by Christopher Goldsack

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