Recently in French love poems Category

Pierre Jean de Beranger

QU'ELLE  EST  JOLIE!

    Grands dieux! Combien elle est jolie
    Celle que j'aimerai toujours!
    Dans leur douce mélancolie
    Ses yeux font rêver aux amours.
    Du plus beau souffle de la vie
    À l'animer le ciel se plaît.
    Grands dieux! Combien elle est jolie!
    Et moi, je suis, je suis si laid!
    Grands dieux, combien elle est jolie!

    Elle compte au plus vingt printemps.
    Sa bouche est fraîche épanouie;
    Ses cheveux sont blonds et flottants.
    Par mille talents embellie,
    Seule elle ignore ce qu'elle est.
    Grands dieux! Combien elle est jolie!
    Et moi, je suis, je suis si laid!

    Grands dieux! Combien elle est jolie!
    Et cependant j'en suis aimé.
    J'ai dû long-temps porter envie
    Aux traits dont le sexe est charmé.
    Avant qu'elle enchantât ma vie,
    Devant moi l'amour s'envolait.
    Grands dieux! Combien elle est jolie!
    Et moi, je suis, je suis si laid!

    Grands dieux! Combien elle est jolie!
    Et pour moi ses feux sont constants.
    La guirlande qu'elle a cueillie
    Ceint mon front chauve avant trente ans.
    Voiles qui parez mon amie,
    Tombez; mon triomphe est complet.
    Grands dieux! Combien elle est jolie!
    Et moi, je suis, je suis si laid!


Poetic translation

HOW FAIR SHE IS


Ye gods! she is so fair, so sweet,
I've cast my life beneath her feet;
In her deep, melancholy eyes
All love's raptured languor lies;
Gentle zephyrs, blowing round her,
With their choicest sweets have crown'd her;
She's fair as morning's rosy light,
Whilst I am gloomy as the night.

Ye gods ! she is so fair, so sweet,
I've cast my life beneath her feet;
The tinge upon her golden hair
Gleams as tho' sunset loiter'd there;
Clever she is in all but this,
She scarcely knows how fair she is;
She's fair as morning's rosy light,
Whilst I am gloomy as the night.

Ye gods! she is so fair, so sweet,
I've cast my life beneath her feet;
Tho' love had been my fondest dream,
And woman's charms my favorite theme,
Before she brighten'd up my heart
Love fled away, or kept apart;
She's fair as morning's rosy light,
Whilst I am gloomy as the night.

Ye gods! she is so fair, so sweet,
I've cast my life beneath her feet --
A life of barely thirty years,
And yet how old with doubts and fears,
Until with love, and hope, and truth,
She seem'd to bring me back my youth;
For she was fair as morning's light,
Whilst I was gloomy as the night. 

PARNY

LE BAISER

Ah! Justine, qu'avez-vous fait?
Quel nouveau trouble et quelle ivresse!
Quoi! cette extase enchanteresse
D'un simple baiser est l'effet?
Le baiser de celui qu'on aime
A son attrait et sa douceur;
Mais le prélude du bonheur
Peut-il être le bonheur même?
Oui, sans doute, ce baiser-là
Est le premier, belle Justine;
Sa puissance est toujours divine ,
Et votre cœur s'en souviendra.
Votre ami murmure et s'étonne
Qu'il ait sur lui moins de pouvoir;
Mais il jouit de ce qu'il donne;
C'est beaucoup plus que recevoir.

Poetic translation

The Kiss.

An, Justine! what have you done?
All this ecstasy of bliss,
All this throbbing passion won
From one single kiss !
Lingering kisses never cloy
On the loving lips we press,
But, perhaps, the foretaste e'en of joy
Is love's greatest happiness;
And e'en the remembrance, Sweet,
Of this first kiss, always will
Make your bosom flush and beat,
Till your heart be cold and still.
Now your lover scarce believes
That 'tis his love inspires you:
Better to give than to receive,
So he joys in the love that fires you.

(Still looking for the French original)

MY LITTLE NEIGHBOR.


If you nothing have to say,
Why so often come this way?
Rosy mouth and blue eyes smiling,
Stronger heads than mine beguiling

From their study and their labor;
Tell me, charming little neighbor,
If you nothing have to say,
Why so often come this way ?

If you nothing have to teach,
Why not practise as you preach?
Little hands so softly pressing,
Teasing half, and half caressing,

Saucy mouth, and sparkling eye,
Needs must have a reason why;
If you nothing have to teach
Why not practise as you preach

If you say I have not won you,
Why not, sweet one, let me shun you?
Now my books aside are thrown,
You I read, and you alone;

If you ever are denying,
Why then hinder me from flying?
If you say I have not won you,
Why not, sweet one, let me shun you ?