Bois chers aux ramiers, pleurez, doux feuillages,
Et toi, source vive, et vous, frais sentiers;
Pleurez, ô bruyères sauvages,
Buissons de houx et d'églantiers.
Printemps, roi fleuri de la verte année,
O jeune dieu, pleure! Été mûrissant,
Coupe ta tresse couronnée;
Et pleure, Automne rougissant.
L'angoisse d'aimer brise un cur fidèle.
Terre et ciel, pleurez: oh! que je l'aimais!
Cher pays, ne parle plus d'elle:
Nanny ne reviendra jamais!
Woods, dear to the doves, weep, soft leaves,
and you, lively spring, and you, cool paths;
weep, o wild heathers,
holly and sweet-briar bushes.
Spring, king covered in the flowers of the green year,
o young god, weep! Ripening summer,
Cut your crowned tress;
and weep, reddening Autumn.
The anguish of loving breaks a faithful heart.
Earth and sky, weep: oh, how I loved her!
Dear country , do not speak of her again:
Nanny will never return.
© translated by Christopher Goldsack
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