Songs of Love, Memory and Loss
Villanelle
Poem by Théophile Gautier (1811–1872)
Quand viendra la saison nouvelle,
Quand auront disparu les froids,
Tous les deux nous irons, ma belle,
Pour cueillir le muguet aux bois;
Sous nos pieds égrenant les perles
Que l’on voit au matin trembler,
Nous irons écouter les merles
Siffler!
Le printemps est venu, ma belle;
C’est le mois des amants béni,
Et l’oiseau, satinant son aile,
Dit ses vers au rebord du nid.
Oh! viens donc sur ce banc de mousse,
Pour parler de nos beaux amours,
Et dis-moi de ta voix si douce:
Toujours!
Loin, bien loin, égarant nos courses,
Faisons fuir le lapin caché,
Et le daim au miroir des sources
Admirant son grand bois penché;
Puis, chez nous, tout heureux, tout aises,
En paniers enlaçant nos doigts,
Revenons rapportant des fraises
Des bois!
When the new season comes,
When the cold has gone,
We two will go, my sweet,
To gather lilies-of-the-valley in the woods;
Scattering as we tread the pearls of dew
We see quivering each morn,
We’ll go and hear the blackbirds
Sing!
Spring has come, my sweet;
It is the season lovers bless,
And the birds, preening their wings,
Sing songs from the edge of their nests.
Ah! Come, then, to this mossy bank
To talk of our beautiful love,
And tell me in your gentle voice:
Forever!
Far, far away we’ll stray from our path,
Startling the rabbit from his hiding-place
And the deer reflected in the spring,
Admiring his great lowered antlers;
Then home we’ll go, serene and at ease,
And entwining our fingers basket-like,
We’ll bring back home wild
Strawberries!
Laue Sommernacht
Poem by Otto Erich Hartleben (1864–1905)
Laue Sommernacht: am Himmel
Stand kein Stern, im weiten Walde
Suchten wir uns tief im Dunkel,
Und wir fanden uns.
Fanden uns im weiten Walde
In der Nacht, der sternenlosen,
Hielten staunend uns im Arme
In der dunklen Nacht.
War nicht unser ganzes Leben
Nur ein Tappen, nur ein Suchen?
Da in deine Finsternisse
Liebe, fiel Dein Licht.
Translation by Richard Stokes
Translation by Richard Stokes
Mild summer night: in the sky
Not a star, in the deep forest
We sought each other in the dark
And found one another.
Found one another in the deep wood
In the night, the starless night,
And amazed, we embraced
In the dark night.
Our entire life – was it not
Simply touching, simply searching?
There into its darkness,
Love, your light fell.
나의 살던 고향은 꽃피는 산골
복숭아꽃 살구꽃 아기 진달래
울긋불긋 꽃대궐 차린 동네
그 속에서 놀던 때가 그립습니다
꽃동네 새동네 나의 옛고향
파란 들 남쪽에서 바람이 불면
냇가에 수양버들 춤추는 동네
그 속에서 놀던 때가 그립습니다
My hometown where I lived was a valley in bloom
Peach blossoms, apricot flowers, and baby azaleas
A village adorned like a palace of colors
I miss the days when I played in its heart
Flower village, bird village, my old hometown
When the wind blew from the south over green fields
By the stream, the willows would dance in the breeze
I miss the days when I played in its heart
Memories of Prague
Text by Petr Ginz (1928-1944)
How long since I last saw
The sun sink low behind Petrín Hill?
With tearful eyes I gazed at you, Prague,
Enveloped in your evening shadows.
How long since I last heard
The pleasant rush of water
Over the weir in the Vltava River?
I have long since forgotten
The bustling life on Wenceslas Square.
Those unknown corners in the Old Town,
Those shady nooks and sleepy canals.
How are they?
They cannot be grieving for me
As I do for them.
Almost a year has passed.
For almost a year I have huddled in this awful hole.
A few poor streets replace your priceless beauty.
Like a beast I am, imprisoned in a tiny cage.
Prague, you fairy tale in stone, how well I remember!
Oh Glory
Text: Traditional African American Spiritual)
Oh, glory, oh, glory,
There is room enough in paradise
To have a home in glory.
On that sweet day, no more a slave I’ll be;
To have a home in glory,
In Jesus’s arms where I am truly free
To have a home in glory.
Oh, glory, oh, glory,
There is room enough in paradise
To have a home in glory.
I’ll see my child that once was sold away.
In mansions bright we’ll dwell for endless days.
To have a home,
Oh, glory, glory, oh, glory,
There is room enough in paradise
To have my home in glory.
Glory, glory, glory
Mon-Nee-Joh (Unable to Forget)
Poem by Sowol Kim (1902-1934)
못 잊어 생각이 나겠지요.
그런대로 한세상 지내시구려
사노라면 잊힐 날 있으리라.
못 잊어 생각이 나겠지요.
그런대로 세월만 가라시구려,
못 잊어도 더러는 잊히오리다.
그러나 또 한긋 이렇지요.
그리워 살뜰히 못 잊는데,
어쩌면 생각이 떠지나요.
Unable to forget, you will miss them.
Let it be, that will be a life all its own,
there will come a day when you forget.
Unable to forget, you will miss them.
So be it, just let the years pass on by,
you will one day forget some, if not all.
Yet, for all that, is it not also true.
With blood and bones yearning alike,
how can the thou