Texts and Translations, Paula Turbull

April 11, 2023

Songs of autumn

When a sighing begins
In the violins of the autumn-song,
My heart is drowned in the slow sound
Languorous and long pale as with pain,
Breath fails me when the hours toll deep
My thoughts recover the days that are over,
And I weep.
And I go where the winds know,
Broken and brief,
To and fro,
As the winds blows a dead leaf

Tomorrow

Tomorrow, at dawn,
when the countryside whitens,I will leave.
You see, I know you are waiting for me.
I will go through the forest, I will go across the mountains.
I cannot stay away from you any longer.
I will walk with my eyes fixed on my thoughts,
Seeing nothing outside, hearing no sound,
Alone, unknown, my back bent, my hands crossed,
Sad, and the day for me will be like night.
I will not look at the gold of the falling evening,
Nor the sails in the distance descending towards Harfleur,
And when I arrive, I will place on your tomb
A bouquet of green holly and flowering heather.

Before my days

Before my dying days I must incur
By a look, which you wanted to make me proud,
And don't pride yourself on my serious sadness:
But isn't it your great harshness,
Considering that you can help me so well?
Near the water I must of thirst perish. I see myself young, and in blooming age,
And if I show myself to be full of old age
Before my days. Now, if I die, I want God to
Take my soul: and without further inquiring,
I give to the worms my body full of weakness.
As far as the heart is concerned, at all I leave it to you,
This notwithstanding that you make me die
Before my days.

O mistress mine

O Mistress Mine where are your roaming?
O stay and hear, your true love’s coming,
That can sing both high and low.
Trip no further pretty sweeting.
Journey’s end in lovers’ meeting.
Every wise man’s son doth know.
What is love, ‘tis not hereafter,
Present mirth hath present laughter
What’s to come, is still unsure
In delay there lies no plenty,
Then come kiss me sweet and twenty;
Youth’s a stuff will not endure.

Take o take those lips away

Take, oh take those lips away,
That so sweetly were forsworn,
And those eyes: the break of day,
Lights that do mislead the Morn;
But my kisses bring again, bring again,
Seals of love, but sealed in vain, sealed in vain.

Fairy Lullaby

Philomel, with melody,
sing in our sweet lullaby;
Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby;
Never harm, nor spell, nor charm,
come our lovely lady nigh.
So good night, with lullaby.

The Chimney-sweep

The Chimney-sweep!
I seem ugly and black, and I stain everything near me;
I am badly dressed, ever barefoot around I go.
Ah! Who could be just as happy as me?
On earth it is impossible to say!
Chimney-sweep!
Ladies and gentlemen, the chimney-sweep
I Will save you from a fire for a few pennies.
Ah! ladies and gentlemen, the chimney-sweep!
I get up before the sun and to go through the streets
My cries fill the streets
And I do not have any enemies.
Ah! Who could be as happy as I
On earth it is impossible to say!
Now I rise to the rooftops and go through the rooms
With my name the little children become timid and quiet
Chimney-sweep! Ladies and gentlemen
Chimney-sweep!

The Mystery

My lady, someone may see
Or they think that I am fully contented and healed by love
But not you, who does not know how much I fight to oppress my heart.
Like a still lake which appears to be sleeping but covered in storms of its own blood,
unknowing of passings.
Although I look calm I have confusion in my heart
If a sigh or a complaint holds terror to the love that is within me.
I do not lose the intense fire.
Like a lamp in a monument, it invisibly burns in my heart.
And it lives if it is held, in the privacy of comfort.
And it will live after death, if it is wanted.
Because it nourishes itself.
Love in a noble heart.

A Toast

Pour me some wine!
Only you, o glass,
of all the worldly pleasures,
Do not lie.
You, life of the senses, joy of the heart.
I have loved; two fatal glances inflamed me;
I believed the friendship of the girl without wings,
Foolishness of youth illuminated imagination.
Pour me some wine, joy of the heart
A friend, a lover will leave after a while,
but you have no fear of that which destroys all:
Age does not upset you,
It increases your virtue.
April has faded, the roses have fallen,
You are the one that minimizes worries
It is you that brings back the joy that once was.
Pour me some wine, joy of the heart.
Who better than you can heal the heart of its wounds?
Without your vine, pain would never cease.
Pour me some wine!
Only you, o glass,
of all the worldly pleasures,
Do not lie.
You, life of the senses, joy of the heart.

Romantic Air

I went to the countryside with the stormy wind,
Beneath the pale morning and low clouds,
A sinister crow followed me on my way
And my steps splash through the water puddles.
The lightning on the horizon unleashed its flame
And the North Wind intensified its screaming.
But the storm was too weak for my soul
Which drowned the thunder with its beating.
From the golden spoils of ash and maple
Autumn amassed her brilliant plunder,
And the crow still, with inexorable flight,
Without changing anything, accompanied me to my fate.

Pastoral Air

Lovely spring,
I shall never cease to remember
That on a day, guided by entranced friendship,
Ravished, I gazed on your face,
O goddess,
Half hidden beneath the moss.
Had he but remained, this friend whom I mourn,
O nymph, a devotee of your cult,
To mingle once more with the breeze that caresses you,
And to respond to your hidden waters!

Grave Air

Ah! begone now,
Unhappy thoughts!
O anger! O remorse!
Memories that oppressed
My two temples
With the embrace of the dead.
Paths full of moss,
Vaporous fountains,
Deep grottoes, voices
Of birds and wind,
Fitful lights
Of the wild undergrowth.
Insects, animals,
Beauty to come –
Do not repulse me,
O divine nature,
I am your suppliant.
Ah! begone now,
Anger, remorse!

Lively Air

The treasures of the orchard and the festive garden,
The flowers of the field,
of the woods
Burst with pleasure
Alas! and above their head the wind unfurls voice.
But you, noble ocean whom the assault of storms
Cannot ravage,
You will certainly, with more dignity
Lose yourself in dreams when you lament.

He who gives himself up to solitude

He who gives himself up to solitude,
ah, he is soon by himself;
one-man lives, another loves
and both leave him to suffer.
Yes, leave me to suffer!
And if I can just once
be very lonely,
then I shall not be alone.
A lover walks softly, listening:
is his sweetheart alone?
Thus, day and night,
Suffering comes upon me,
torment finds me in my solitude.
Ah, when I lie lonely in the grave,
then they will leave me alone.

Who has never eaten his bread with tears

Who has never eaten their bread with tears,
who, through nights of grief,
has sat in their bed crying,
knows you not, heavenly powers.
You bring us into life;
you let the poor wretch be taken by guilt,
then you abandon him to agony:
for all guilt is avenged on earth.

I shall steal from door to door

I shall steal from door to door
and stand there humbly;
a kind hand will offer food
and I shall go away.
Each will deem themselves happy
When I am before them.
They will cry a single tear;
and yet I know not why he should weep.

Glitter and be gay

Glitter and be gay,
That's the part I play;
Here I am in Paris, France,
Forced to bend my soul
To a sordid role,
Victimized by bitter, bitter circumstance.
Alas for me! Had I remained
Beside my lady mother,
My virtue had remained unstained
Until my maiden hand was gained
By some Grand Duke or other.
Ah, 'twas not to be;
Harsh necessity
Brought me to this gilded cage.
Born to higher things,
Here I droop my wings,
Ah! Singing of a sorrow nothing can assuage.
And yet of course I rather like to revel,
I have no strong objection to champagne,
My wardrobe is expensive as the devil,
Perhaps it is ignoble to complain...
Enough, enough
Of being basely tearful!
I'll show my noble stuff
By being bright and cheerful!
Pearls and ruby rings...
Ah, how can worldly things
Take the place of honor lost?
Can they compensate
For my fallen state,
Purchased as they were at such an awful cost?
Bracelets...lavalieres
Can they dry my tears?
Can they blind my eyes to shame?
Can the brightest brooch
Shield me from reproach?
Can the purest diamond purify my name?
And yet of course these trinkets are endearing
I'm oh, so glad my sapphire is a star,
I rather like a twenty-carat earring,
If I'm not pure, at least my jewels are!
Enough! Enough!
I'll take their diamond necklace
And show my noble stuff
By being gay and reckless!
Observe how bravely I conceal
The dreadful, dreadful shame I feel.