Chanson d' Amour lyrics
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Chanson d'Amour (Songs of Love)

English Translations by Chanara



Je Te Veux (I want you)
I understand your distress, dear Beloved, and I surrender to your voice. Make me your slave. Let us cast away thoughts of
sadness and seek the happiness of this moment. I want you. Yes, I see in your eyes the divine promise, that your loving heart
comes seeking my caresses; entwined forever, consumed by the same flames; there in dreams of love, we shall exchange our
two souls.




Villanella (Pastoral Poem)
When Spring comes, and the cold disappears, then we will go, my dear one, to the woods and gather flowers. Beneath our feet
we will scatter pearls of dew, trembling there in the morning sun. And we will hear the blackbirds sing. Spring has come
again, my love. ‘Tis the month for making love. The birds sing as they preen on the edge of their nest. Oh, please, come to
this bank of moss and let us talk of our glorious love. With your voice so sweet, tell me, tell me always. Far away, wand’ring
from our pathway, rabbits flee at our approach. And the buck, mirrored in the pond, admires his great antlers. Then homeward
we will go, so happy, with a basket full of wild strawberries entwined in our hands.




Le Spectre de la Rose (The Spirit of the Rose)
You slowly open your closed eyes, still touched by dream's bliss. I am the spirit of the rose you wore last night at the ball. I'm
your prize, still covered with mist, gleaming like silver tears. Throughout the dazzling festival you danced with me all night.

Oh you, for whom I have died, your power propels me forward. Every night my spirit will come to dance on your pillow. But
do not fear. I do not require the recognition of a sacred burial. This faint perfume is my soul. This subtle essence is my spirit,
and I come from paradise.

My destiny is worthy of envy. . . For such a beautiful fate, many would have given their life, for on your breast I have my
tomb. And on the stone where I rest, a poet, with a kiss, writes, “Here lies a rose whom all the kings envy."




Aurore (Dawn)
From the gardens of the night the stars take flight. Golden bees drawn toward an invisible honey. And the dawn, in the
distance, spreading the brilliance of its canvas, weaves with threads of silver the blue cloak of the sky. From the garden of my
heart, intoxicated by a lulling dream, my desires fly away with the coming of the morning. Like a swift swarm of bees toward
the coppery horizon, beckoned by a plaintive song, ever present and distant.
They fly to your feet. Stars chased from the clouds. Exiled from the golden sky where your beauty reigns supreme. And
treading uncharted paths to find you, they mingle their fading light with the dawning day.




Ici-Bas (Down Here)
Down here, all the lilacs die. All the songs of birds are short. I dream of summers that last forever! Down here, lips touch
briefly leaving nothing of their velvet. I dream of kisses that last forever. Down here, everyone weeps for their lost loves. I
dream of couples that last forever.




Après un Rêve (After a dream)
In sleep, enchanted by your image, I dreamed of happiness, a passionate illusion. Your eyes were so gentle, your voice so pure
and rich. You were radiant like a sky lighted by the dawn. You called to me and I left the earth to fly with you toward the
light. For us the skies parted their clouds; unknown splendors, glimpses of divine light. Alas! Alas! sad awakening from
dreams; I call to you, o night! Give me back your illusions! Return! Return in radiance! Return, Oh mysterious night!




Clair de Lune (Moonlight)
In the forest, where dreams are born, I go, . . in the night . . . in the forest. Your spirit appears to me and walks with me without
wavering. Is it not so, that here, amid the thin fog and dark night, pretense ends, here, where there is only moonlight across the
shadow of the fir tree? And these tears that I hear flowing gently, they are mine. Is it really you, here, by my side, weeping?




Psyché (Psyche)
I am jealous, Psyche, of all nature. The rays of the sun kiss you far too often. The wind caresses your hair too much. When it
flatters you thus, I get moody. The air itself that you breathe, passes your lips with too much pleasure. Your garment touches
you too closely. And whenever you sigh, I don’t know what grips me with fear. Perhaps among your sighs, one sigh might
escape me.




Beau Soir (Beautiful Evening)
When, in the setting sun, the rivers are rosy, and a warm breeze floats over the fields of grain, the decision to be happy seems to
emanate from all things, and rises to the troubled heart. The choice to enjoy the pleasure of being alive while one is young and
the evening is beautiful. For we, ourselves, proceed like a wave. It to the sea. We to the grave.




Nuit d’Etoile (Night of Stars)
Night of stars, beneath your veils, amid your breezes and scents, a sad guitar sighs, and I dream of lost loves. A serene
melancholy suddenly unfolds at the bottom of my heart, and I sense the soul of my Beloved trembling in a mystical forest. I
see again in our fountain, your glances, blue like the sky. This rose, it is your breath . . . and these stars are your eyes.




Aimons-Nous (Let us love each other)
Let us love each other, and sleep, without thinking of the rest of the world. Nor the raging of the sea, nor the storm of the
mountains. As long as we love each other, don’t trouble your blond head. For love is more strong than the gods and death.
The sun will die away to leave your complexion more pure. The wind that bows the trees to the ground, in passing would not
dare to play with your hair, as long as you bury your head in my arms. And when our two hearts soar into happy spheres
where the celestial lilies bloom beneath our tears, then, like the flowers, we will join our lips lovingly and attempt to conquer
death with a kiss.




Extase (Ecstasy)
On a pale lily, my heart sleeps in a slumber, sweet as death. Death exquisite. Death perfumed with the breath of the beloved.
On your pale breast, my heart sleeps in a slumber, sweet as death.




Chanson Triste (Sad Song)
Moonlight slumbers in your heart, soft summer moonlight. And to flee this tiresome life, I shall drown myself in your
brightness. I shall forget past sorrows, my love, as you cradle my sad heart, and my thoughts in the loving stillness of your
arms. You take my wounded head, oh, sometimes on your knees, and sing a ballad. A ballad which seems to speak of us.
And in your eyes full of sadness, in your eyes, I drink so many kisses and tender caresses that perhaps I shall recover.




Quand on n’a que l’Amour (When we only have love)
When we only have love, (repeat before each line)
we will give all to all, on this voyage of life, which is our great love.
my sweet love, you and I, we will savor our joy every day, every hour.
we will follow our dreams without needing riches, just our steadfast belief.
we will cherish each day and cover with sunlight the drab urban gray.
to be our only voice, to be our only song, and our only choice.
we can offer a prayer for the wounds of the earth, giving comfort and care.
we can clothe each new day, clothe the poor and downtrodden, as they find a new way.
to offer to those who struggle and strive just to conquer the day,
to follow our path and trust that our fate is our highest good.
to speak about guns and only a song to illicit a drum,
Then with having no more than our own strength to love, we will have in our hands, my love, heaven on earth.






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