Text & Translation
xi. Lui
French source:
Rabindranath Tagore
C’est lui qui pose son enchantement sur mes yeux et qui, plein de gaîté, joue sur la harpe de mon cœur les changeantes cadences de la plaisance et du chagrin.
C’est lui qui tisse cette maya en teintes évanescentes d’or et d’argent, de bleu, de vert, et laisse apercevoir à travers les plis du tissu son pied au toucher duquel je défaille.
Trans. André Gide (1869-1951)
Him
translation ©
Rabindranath Tagore
He it is who puts his enchantment upon these eyes and joyfully plays on the chords of my heart in varied cadence of pleasure and pain.
He it is who weaves the web of this maya in evanescent hues of gold and silver, blue and green, and lets peep out through the folds his feet, at whose touch I forget myself.
Days come and ages pass, and it is ever he who moves my heart in many a name, in many a guise, in many a rapture of joy and of sorrow.
xi. Lui
French source:
Rabindranath Tagore
Him
source:
Rabindranath Tagore
C’est lui ce très intime qui éveille mon être à son profond toucher mystérieux.
He it is, the innermost one, who awakens my being with his deep hidden touches.
C’est lui qui pose son enchantement sur mes yeux et qui, plein de gaîté, joue sur la harpe de mon cœur les changeantes cadences de la plaisance et du chagrin.
He it is who puts his enchantment upon these eyes and joyfully plays on the chords of my heart in varied cadence of pleasure and pain.
C’est lui qui tisse cette maya en teintes évanescentes d’or et d’argent, de bleu, de vert, et laisse apercevoir à travers les plis du tissu son pied au toucher duquel je défaille.
He it is who weaves the web of this maya in evanescent hues of gold and silver, blue and green, and lets peep out through the folds his feet, at whose touch I forget myself.
Trans. André Gide (1869-1951)
