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Fauré - Chanson


Fauré (1906)

Que me fait toute la terre
Inutile où tu n'as pas
En marchant marqué ton pas
Dans le sable ou la poussière!

Il n'est de fleuve attendu
Par ma soif qui s'y étanche
Que l'eau qui sourd et s'épenche
De la source où tu as bu;

La seule fleur qui m'attire
Est celle où je trouverai
Le souvenir empourpré
De ta bouche et de ton rire;

Et, sous la courbe des cieux,
La mer pour moi n'est immense
Que parce qu'elle commence
A la couleur de tes yeux.

Henri de Régnier



What does it do for me, the useless
earth in which you have not
marked your step by walking
on the sand or the dust!

There is no river expected
by my thirst where it is quenched
other than the water which rises and gushes
from the spring where you have drunk;

the only flower which draws me
is the one where I shall find
the reddened memory
of your mouth and of your laugh;

and, beneath the arc of the heavens
the sea only vast for me
because it starts
at the colour of your eyes.

© translated by Christopher Goldsack

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