Premier sourire du printemps, Théophile Gauthier
We happened across a lovely poem that we studied back at uni this week, and while the language is perhaps a little more advanced than our usual blagues bêtes, it had us feeling nostalgic so thought we’d share.
For those not au fait with French poets, Gauthier was born in Avignon in 1811. He was big pals with Victor Hugo and developed the ‘art for art’s sake’ theory. He is remembered as the master of the Parnasse poetic movement.
Gauthier turned his hand to art criticism, fairy stories, novels and journalism, but remains best known for his decadent poetry.
Premier sourire du printemps / The First Smile of Spring
Translated by Robert Louis Sanderson
| Tandis qu’à leurs oeuvres perverses Les hommes courent haletants, Mars qui rit, malgré les averses, Prépare en secret le printemps. |
While to their perverse work Men run panting, March that laughs, in spite of showers, Quietly gets Spring ready. |
| Pour les petites pâquerettes, Sournoisement lorsque tout dort, Il repasse des collerettes Et cisèle des boutons d’or. |
For the little daisies, Slyly, when all sleep, He irons little collars And chisels gold studs. |
| Dans le verger et dans la vigne, Il s’en va, furtif perruquier, Avec une houppe de cygne, Poudrer à frimas l’amandier. |
Through the orchard and the vineyard, He goes, cunning hair-dresser, With a swan-puff, And powders snow-white the almond-tree. |
| La nature au lit se repose ; Lui descend au jardin désert, Et lace les boutons de rose Dans leur corset de velours vert. |
Nature rests in her bed; He goes down to the garden And laces the rosebuds In their green velvet corsets |
| Tout en composant des solfèges, Qu’aux merles il siffle à mi-voix, Il sème aux prés les perce-neiges Et les violettes aux bois. |
While composing solfeggios That he sings in a low tone to the blackbirds, He strews the meadows with snowdrops And the woods with violets. |
| Sur le cresson de la fontaine Où le cerf boit, l’oreille au guet, De sa main cachée il égrène Les grelots d’argent du muguet. |
By the side of the cress in the brook Where drinks the stag, with listening ear, With his concealed hand he scatters The silver bells of the lilies of the valley. |
| Sous l’herbe, pour que tu la cueilles, Il met la fraise au teint vermeil, Et te tresse un chapeau de feuilles Pour te garantir du soleil. |
Under the grass, for you to gather, he places crimson strawberries, and weaves you a hat of leaves to shelter you from the sun |
| Puis, lorsque sa besogne est faite, Et que son règne va finir, Au seuil d’avril tournant la tête, Il dit : << Printemps, tu peux venir ! >> |
Then, when his work is done And his reign about to end, On the threshold of April, turning his head, He says, Spring, you may come! |
