Seuls tous deux, ravis, chantants!
Comme on s'aime;
Comme on cueille le printemps
Que Dieu sème,
Quels rires étincelants
Dans ces ombres
Jadis pleines de fronts blancs,
De curs sombres.
On est tout frais mariés.
On s'envoie
Les charmants cris variés
De la joie.
Frais échos mélés au vent
qui frissone!
Gaîté que le noir couvent
Assaisonne!
On effeuille des jasmins
Sur la pierre
Où l'abbesse joint les mains
En prière.
On se cherche, on se poursuit,
On sent croître
Ton aube, amour, dans la nuit
Du vieux cloître.
On s'en va se becquetant,
On s'adore,
On s'embrasse à chaque instants,
Puis encore,
Sous les piliers, les arceaux,
Et les marbres.
C'est l'histoire des oiseaux
Dans les arbres.
Alone together, delighted, singing,
how we love one another;
how we gather the springtime
that God scatters,
what dazzling laughs
among these shadows
once full of pale brows,
of sombre hearts.
We are just newly married.
We send each other
the various charming calls
of fresh happiness.
echo mixed with the wind
which flutters!
Gaiety which the dark convent
seasons!
We pluck the jasmine flowers
onto the stone
where the abbess joined her hands
in prayer.
We look for one another, chase each other,
we feel your dawn,
love, growing
in the old cloister's night.
We leave embracing,
we adore each other,
we kiss at every moment,
and then once more,
beneath the pillars, the arches,
and the marble statues.
It is the story of the birds
in the trees.
© translated by Christopher Goldsack
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