Il pleure dans mon cœur
Comme il pleut sur la ville;
Quelle est cette langueur
Que pénètre mon cœur?
O bruit doux de la pluie
Par terre et sur les toits!
Pour un cœur qui s'ennuie,
O le bruit de la pluie!1
Il pleure sans raison
Dans ce cœur qui s'écœure.
Quoi! nul trahison?...
Ce deuil est sans raison.
C'est bien la pire peine
De ne savoir pourquoi,
Sans amour et sans haine,
Mon cœur a tant de peine!
There is weeping in my heart
as there is rain on the town.
What is this languor
into which my heart seeps?
Oh, soft sound of the rain
on the ground and on the roofs!
For a heart which is forlorn,
oh, the sound of the rain!
It weeps for no reason
in this sickening heart.
What! No treason?
This mourning is without reason.
It is indeed the worst torment
not to know why,
without love and without hatred,
my heart has so much sadness!
© translated by Christopher Goldsack
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