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Fleur jetée

Fauré (1884)

Emporte ma folie
Au gré du vent,
Fleur en chantant cueillie
Et jetée en rêvant.
_ Emporte ma folie
Au gré du vent!

Comme la fleur fauchée
Périt l'amour.
La main qui t'a touchée
Fuit ma main sans retour.
_ Comme la fleur fauchée,
Périt l'amour!

Que le vent qui te sèche,
O pauvre fleur,
Tout à l'heure si fraîche
Et demain sans couleur!
_ Que le vent qui te sèche,
Sèche mon cœur!

Armand Silvestre

Discarded flower

 

Carry my folly away
at the will of the wind,
flower plucked in a song
and discarded in a dream.
_ Carry my folly away
at the will of the wind!

Like the flower cut down
love perishes.
The hand which touched you
flees my hand forever.
_ Like the flower cut down
love perishes!

May the wind which dries you,
o poor flower,
just now so fresh
and tomorrow without colour!
_ May the wind which dries you,
dry my heart!

© translated by Christopher Goldsack

This translation is offered for study purposes. If seeking to use it for concert programmes please do let me know, and if for commercial purposes please consider making a small donation towards the upkeep of the site.