SÉRÉNADE | SERENADE |
Gabriel Marc | trans. Peter Dean |
Si j’étais, o mon amoureuse, La brise au souffle parfumé, Pour frôler ta bouche rieuse, Je viendrais craintif et charmé. Si j’étais l’abeille qui vole, Ou le papillon séducteur, Tu ne me verrais pas, frivole, Te quitter pour une autre fleur. Si j’étais la rose charmante Que ta main place sur ton coeur, Si près de toi toute tremblante Je me fanerais de bonheur. Mais en vain je cherche à te plaire, J’ai beau gémir et soupirer. Je suis homme, et que puis-je faire? - T’aimer ... Te le dire ... Et pleurer! |
If, lover, I could only be The perfumed breath of breeze that blows, With lips that laugh I would make free, Fearful and charmed I’d still come close. If I were just the bee that flies Or the seductive butterfly You’d not see me dematerialise And wander to some other sky. If I were but the charming rose Your hand is placing next your heart, So close to you, I’d faint, so close, Trembling with pleasure, quite oppressed! I seek to please but all in vain, I waste my time in groan and sigh. I am a man - and where’s my gain? To love you ... Tell you so ... And cry. |
Trans. Copyright © Peter Dean 2002