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Brightman Sarah The Trees They Grow So High Voici le Printemps Voici le printemps qui passe; "Bonjour, tisserand, bonjour! Ami, cède-moi ta place, J'en ai besoin pour un jour. C'est moi qui fais la toilette Des bois, des près et des fleurs. Donne vite ta navette; Tu sais qu'on m'attend ailleurs." Voici le printemps qui passe; "Bonjour, mon peintre, bonjour! Ta main s'obstine et se lasse, À faire un semblant du jour. Donne vite ta palette Ta palette et ton pinceau. Tu vas voir le ciel en fate Rajeunir dans mon tableau." Voici le printemps qui passe; "Bonjour, fillettes, bonjour! Donnez vos fuseaux, de grâce, Que je travaille à mon tour. J'ai promis sous less charmilles Ma laine aux nids d'alentour. Je vous dirai, jeunes filles, Oú se niche aussi l'amour." Here is the Spring passing by Here is the Spring passing by; "Good day, weaver, good day! My friend, lend me your chair, I need it for a day. I am he who cleanses The woods, the meadows and the flowers. Quickly, lend me your shuttle; I am awaited elsewhere, you know." Here is the Spring passing by; "Good day, painter, good day! Your labouring hand grows weary As it makes a likeness of the day. Quickly, lend me your palette, your palette and your brush. You will see the festive sky Revitalised in my picture. Here is the Spring passing by; "Good day, maidens, good day! Lend me your spindles, I implore you, That I in my turn may work. Under the arbours I promised My wool to the nests round about. I will tell you, o maidens, the place where love also nestles." |
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