Auguste Lacaussade - Les Soleils d'Avril versuri traducere în engleză

English
Translation

The April Suns

The woods will bloom again.Drops of greenery
Already tremble at the end of the despoiled branchlets
And the buds soon, veiling the hard bark
Will open in the sun, with sap still wet.
 

From a long sleep the earth wakes up smiling
Everything in it is lukewarmness, redness, charming troubles
The days go increasing, of the season vermilion
We see everywhere floating fresh forebodings.
 

The winds pass by, laden with secret promises
The bird does not sing yet, on the bushes
No flowers, but already nightingales and poets
Feel the sap of songs rising within them.
 

Of the cheerful suns of April here is the first hour
April is the spring in its virginity
The air is deep blue, suave is the light
A young blood smiles on the forehead of beauty.
 

Soon the budding woods, the mosses, the ferns
Will make a moving canopy over the singing flow of the waters
And the winds will rock on their light wings
In the lilacs in bloom the happy hymn of the birds.
 

Soon the first fruits of the things will be picked
The lark in the air will say the young wheats
And the mute bullfinch, hidden among the roses
Will cover the blond eggs under its feather assembled.
 

That another, after winter, sings of his deliverance !
May he say, oh month of May, your return desired
For me, I sing April ! April is hope
Before we have suffered, before we have doubted !.
 

Beloved month, you marked in my green youth
Of happiness, I owe you the infinite dreams
No matter that the life has betrayed their promise !
For my defunct hopes, April, I bless you.!
 

Of the dearest memories faithful confidante
Muse ! since already the first swallow
Of its spring flight furrows the azure afar
Do you want, by this beautiful day, and under such a pure sky
Do you want in this grand park, haven beloved of the mosses
See with me from the ground rising the young shoots
See on the fine sands and in he black branchlets
The wing open in the sun, running the sparrows?
Like them, in the beautiful sun, our cautious thoughts
Will open singing their nuanced wings
And, like the buds bloomed at he top of the woods
Feeling reborn in us the dreams of yesteryear
Sitting under some oak with the branch still black
Muse ! we will tell each other in verse my sweet story.
 

It was, you remember, in this charming age
Where, full of hope and vague torment
Of an unknow desire our soul is so worried
The age of Romeo seeking his Juliette
The age where each of us, in his inconstant wishes
Follows a dream with sweet eyes, a dream with floatting folds.
Where, like the lover your ephemeral roses
The heart, one after the other marrying its chimeras
When he has breathed their virginal perfume
The leafless reality, flies back to the ideal.
 

Oh happiness to love her ! oh pure felicity !
Her poise is young and proud, her mouth is beautiful and mature
From a beaming heart the fresh enchantment
Strews on her path a sweet radiance
Her charm is in her grace, and this antic grace
Recalls, seeing her, the wife of The Song of Songs
When of the young husband accusing the slowness
In the evening, the forehead bathed in unctuous scents
Interrogating with the eyes the undulating lines
Of the hillsides, pale and slender, she went through the vines
Through the fragrant woods planted with green palm trees
To wait for her at the fountain where the woodpigeons drink.
 

Absent like him see ! I'm waiting for you like her
Come quick ! the disquiet mixes with so much love
Oh ! how long the hour is ! she won't come
Silence ! under the woods I recognized her footstep
It's her ! happy trouble, divine emotion
You do not deceiving me ! in the air I divine her
Heavenly perfumes on the breezes that come
Floated and revealed your approach, oh Venus !
In its perfumes also it's my immortal youth !
The foliage has quivered, the air inebriate, it's she !
Joyful burst, kisses of silence followed !
Mute transports, prolonged and delighted glances !
Effusion of the hearts lost in their tenderness !
Sadness of happiness, melancolic drunkeness !
Our soul rises and laughs at our radiant foreheads
And the tears however overflow from our eyes !
 

If I make them spill your tears, it's because I love you !
I was unjust and hard, I know it, and myself
I moan because of it. - Oh ! love, this tormented happiness
If it is made of tenderness, is made of cruelty !
Drunk with bitter suspicions, to his madness in prey
The man to torture himself finds a dark joy
Alas ! why must an inhuman happenstance
Have a fatal day led me on your way ?
Why did you know me ? You enjoyed peaceful life with a docile flow
Far from me soft and calm and easy
But in a bed of azure and gold, disturbing their course
Baleful to your rest, I have tormented your days
Flee from me ! flee without pity, break a harsh slavery
Be free ! tearing you away from my wild mood
That another loves you and gives to your fortunate days
All the hapinesses that alas ! I didn't gave you
Another ! I lie to you and lie to myself !
Ah ! of the passion supreme selfishness !
Know me all ! read naked in my heart !
Another ! die rather ! I love you with fury !
 

Muted explosions ! blind jealousies !
Happy who has never experiences your frenzies !
Happy who can, fed from the bread of the beauty
Live without trouble, love with tranquility
But the worried mind, in its ardours mobile
The feverish soul, the soul to eat one's own heart skillfull
The one who in his vein, instead of a vermilion flow
Feels seethe a blood burned by the sun
This one doesn't know how to be happy ! austere heart
He only knows how to suffer, devour himself, be quiet!...
But to suffer is to love ! and even if I should die
From this bitter and sweet evil who would therefore want to heal !
 

To our failing hearts, to our pale weaknesses
Redouble if you want the blows that you hurt us with
Love ! oh passion made of soul and flesh
Your workship to our pains will not be any less dear !
With my breast still bleeding, I will bless your weapons !
It was you who taught me the voluptuousness of the tears !
You make the whole man, oh you by whom I have learned all
Yes, even if the grave must be the price of our fervours
Love ! young and strong god, god whose evil inebriate
God who revealed us how sweet it is to live
Even if your breath to the tomb precipitates our footsteps
Our soul in dying will no curse you !
 

Of the secret memories faithful confidante
Muse ! while afar the first swallow
Traces the lively furrows of its flight in the azure
On a spring day so clear, a sky so pure
I wanted in this park, haven beloced of the mosses
See with you from the ground rising the young shoots
See on the fine sands and in the black branchlets
The wing open in the sun, running the sparrows
Like them, in the beautiful sun, our cautious thoughts
Have opened singing their nuanced wings
And, like the buds at the top of the woods
Feeling reborn in me the dreams of yesteryear
Sitting under the old oak with the branch still black
Muse ! I recounted you my sweet and sad story.
 




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