Corazón porqué pasáis?

Texts and Translations

La ricordanza

Era la notte, e presso di Colei Che sola al cor mi giunse e vi sta sola, Con quel pianger che rompe la parola, Io pregava mercede a martir miei.

Quand'Ella, chinando gli occhi bei, Disse (e il membrarlo sol me, da me invola): Ponmi al cor la tua destra, e ti consola: Ch'io amo e te sol' amo intender dei,

Poi fatta, per amor, tremante e bianca, In atto soavissimo mi pose La bella faccia sulla spalla manca.

Se dopo il dole assai più duol l'amaro; Se per me nullo istante a quel rispose, Ah! quant' era in quell'ora il morir caro!

S'il est un charmant gazon

S'il est un charmant gazon Que le ciel arrose, Où brille en toute saison Quelque fleur éclose, Où l'on cueille à pleine main Lys, chèvrefeuille et jasmin, J'en veux faire le chemin Où ton pied se pose!

S'il est un rêve d'amour, Parfumé de rose, Où l'on trouve chaque jour Quelque douce chose, Un rêve que Dieu bénit, Où l'âme à l'âme s'unit, Oh ! j'en veux faire le nid Où ton cœur se pose! It was night, and beside Her Who alone reached my heart and there remains alone, With those tears that impede words I pleaded for pity on my anguish.

When She, lowering her lovely eyes, Said (the mere memory of it makes my head whirl): "Place your hand on my heart, and be consoled: You should know that I love you and you alone",

This said from love, pale and trembling, In the sweetest of acts she leaned Her lovely face on my left shoulder.

Even if, after this bliss, grief was far more bitter, Even if; for me, no moment matched this, Ah! how dear was dying in that hour!

The Remembrance

Translation by Antonio Giuliano ©

If there's a lovely grassy plot

If there's a lovely grassy plot watered by the sky where in every season some flower blossoms, where one can freely gather lilies, honeysuckle, and jasmines... I wish to make it the path on which you place your feet.

If there is a dream of love scented with roses, where one finds every day something gentle and sweet, a dream blessed by God where soul is joined to soul... oh, I wish to make it the nest in which you rest your heart.

Translation by Peter Low ©

Oh! Quand je dors

Oh! quand je dors, viens auprès de ma couche, Comme à Pétrarque apparaissait Laura, Et qu’en passant ton haleine me touche … Soudain ma bouche S’entr’ouvrira! Sur mon front morne où peut-être s’achève Un songe noir qui trop longtemps dura, Que ton regard comme un astre se lève … Et soudain mon rêve Rayonnera! Puis sur ma lèvre où voltige une flamme, Éclair d’amour que Dieu même épura, Pose un baiser, et d’ange deviens femme … Soudain mon âme S’éveillera!

Enfant, si j'étais roi

Enfant, si j'étais roi, je donnerais l'empire, Et mon char, et mon sceptre, et mon peuple à genoux, Et ma couronne d'or, et mes bains de porphyre, Et mes flottes, à qui la mer ne peut suffire, Pour un regard de vous!

Si j'étais Dieu, la terre et l'air avec les ondes, Les anges, les démons courbés devant ma loi, Et le profond chaos aux entrailles fécondes, L'éternité, l'espace et les cieux et les mondes, Pour un baiser de toi!

Oh, while I sleep

Oh, while I sleep, come close to where I lie, As Laura once appeared to Petrarch, And let your breath in passing touch me … At once my lips Will part! On my somber brow, where a dismal dream That lasted too long now perhaps is ending, Let your countenance rise like a star … At once my dream Will shine! Then on my lips, where a flame flickers— A flash of love which God himself has purified— Place a kiss and be transformed from angel into woman … At once my soul Will wake!

Translation by Faith J. Cormier ©

Child, if I were king

Child, if I were king I would give the empire, and my chariot, and my scepter, and my kneeling people, and my golden crown, and my porphyry baths, and my fleets that the sea could not hold, for one of your glances!

If I were God, earth and heaven with the waves, the angels, the demons bent before my law, and the chaos of the fertile deep, eternity, space, the heavens and the worlds for a kiss from you!

Translation by Faith J. Cormier ©

Anakreons Grab

Wo die Rose hier blüht, wo Reben um Lorbeer sich schlingen, Wo das Turtelchen lockt, wo sich das Grillchen ergötzt, Welch ein Grab ist hier, das alle Götter mit Leben Schön bepflanzt und geziert? Es ist Anakreons Ruh. Frühling, Sommer und Herbst genoß der glückliche Dichter; Vor dem Winter hat ihn endlich der Hügel geschützt.

Ganymed

Wie im Morgenglanze Du rings mich anglühst, Frühling, Geliebter! Mit tausendfacher Liebeswonne Sich an mein Herz drängt Deiner ewigen Wärme Heilig Gefühl, Unendliche Schöne! Dass ich dich fassen möcht’ In diesen Arm! Ach, an deinem Busen Lieg’ ich, schmachte, Und deine Blumen, dein Gras Drängen sich an mein Herz. Du kühlst den brennenden Durst meines Busens, Lieblicher Morgenwind! Ruft drein die Nachtigall Liebend mach mir aus dem Nebeltal. Ich komm’, ich komme! Wohin? Ach wohin? Hinauf! Hinauf strebt’s. Es schweben die Wolken Abwärts, die Wolken Neigen sich der sehnenden Liebe. Mir! Mir! In euerm Schosse Aufwärts! Umfangend umfangen! Aufwärts an deinen Busen, Alliebender Vater!

Anacreon’s Grave

Where the rose is in flower, where vine interlaces with laurel, Where the turtle-dove calls, where the cricket rejoices, Whose grave is this that all the gods have decked with life And beautiful plants? It is Anacreon’s resting place. The happy poet savored spring, summer and autumn; This mound has at the last protected him from winter.

Translation by Richard Stokes ©

Ganymede

How your glow envelops me in the morning radiance, spring, my beloved! With love’s thousandfold joy the hallowed sensation of your eternal warmth floods my heart, infinite beauty! O that I might clasp you in my arms! Ah, on your breast I lie languishing, and your flowers, your grass press close to my heart. You cool the burning thirst within my breast, sweet morning breeze, as the nightingale calls tenderly to me from the misty valley. I come, I come! But whither? Ah, whither? Upwards! Strive upwards! The clouds drift down, yielding to yearning love, to me, to me! In your lap, upwards, embracing and embraced! Upwards to your bosom,

all-loving Father! Translation by Richard Wigmore ©