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Le Tombeau des Naïades. The third of three songs on poems by Pierre Louys (1870-1925). Music: Claude Debussy (1862-1918). Recorded LIVE, 1998. Biographies and more on http://www.angelaprodeo.org Le long du bois couvert de givre, je marchais; Mes cheveux devant ma bouche Se fleurissaient de petits glaçons, Et mes sandales étaient lourdes De neige fangeuse et tassée. Il me dit: « Que cherches-tu? » Je suis la trace du satyre. Ses petits pas fourchus alternent Comme des trous dans un manteau blanc. Il me dit: « Les satyres sont morts. Les satyres et les nymphes aussi. Depuis trente ans, il n'a pas fait un hiver aussi terrible. La trace que tu vois est celle d'un bouc. Mais restons ici, où est leur tombeau. » Et avec le fer de sa houe il cassa la glace De la source ou jadis riaient les naïades. Il prenait de grands morceaux froids, Et les soulevant vers le ciel pâle, Il regardait au travers. Translation: The tomb of the water‑nymphs Along in the frost-covered woods, I was walking; My mouth covered with my hair That blossomed in tiny icicles, And my sandals were heavy From the muddy caked snow. He sais to me: "What are you looking for?" "I am following the tracks of the satyr. His tiny cloven hoofprints alternate Like holes in a white cloak." He sais to me: "The satyrs are dead. The satyrs, and the nymphs too. In thirty years we did not have such a terrible winter. The trail that you see is of a he-goat. But let's stay here, where their tomb is." With the iron of his hoe he broke the ice Of the spring where the water-nymphs used to laugh. He picked up some large cold slabs of ice, And while lifting them toward the pale sky, He kept peering through them. We hope you will enjoy this and feel free to send the link to any one who likes a good 'chanson classique français'. Love and Light, AngelaProDeo
