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Text & Translation

Chant du Soir
French source: Afanasy Afanas'yevich Fet trans. Louis Pomey

Sur la cime des montagnes
Fuit le jour mourant
L'air embaume nos campagnes,
Dors, ma belle enfant.

De la nuit l'oiseau soupire
L'hymne pénétrant,
Sous mes doigts frémit ma lyre,
Dors, ma belle enfant,
Dors, enfant.

L'œeil de ton bon ange veille
Dans le firmament.
Dans le bois le vent sommeille,
Dors, ma belle enfant.

Evening Song
English translation © Oxford Song

On the mountaintops,
The dying day slips away.
The air is full of sweet scent—
Sleep now, my lovely child.

From the night, the bird sighs
Its penetrating hymn.
My lyre trembles beneath my fingers—
Sleep now, my lovely child.
Sleep, little one.

The eye of your kind angel
Watches in the sky.
The wind sleeps in the forest—
Sleep now, my lovely child.

Chant du Soir
French source: Afanasy Afanas'yevich Fet trans. Louis Pomey

Evening Song
English source: Oxford Song

Sur la cime des montagnes
On the mountaintops,
Fuit le jour mourant
The dying day slips away.
L'air embaume nos campagnes,
The air is full of sweet scent—
Dors, ma belle enfant.
Sleep now, my lovely child.

De la nuit l'oiseau soupire
From the night, the bird sighs
L'hymne pénétrant,
Its penetrating hymn.
Sous mes doigts frémit ma lyre,
My lyre trembles beneath my fingers—
Dors, ma belle enfant,
Sleep now, my lovely child.
Dors, enfant.
Sleep, little one.

L'œeil de ton bon ange veille
The eye of your kind angel
Dans le firmament.
Watches in the sky.
Dans le bois le vent sommeille,
The wind sleeps in the forest—
Dors, ma belle enfant.
Sleep now, my lovely child.

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