Ou va la jeune Indoue, Filles des Parias, Quand la lune se joue, Dans le
grand mimosas? Elle court sur la mousse Et ne se souvient pas Que
partout on repousse L'enfant des parias; Le long des lauriers roses,
Revant de douce choses, Ah! Elle passe sans bruit Et riant a la nuit.
Labas dans la foret plus sombre, Quel est ce voyageur perdu? Autour de
lui Des yeux brillent dans l'ombre, Il marche encore au hasard, e perdu!
Les fauves rugissent de joie, Ils vont se jeter sur leur proie, Le
jeune fille accourt Et brave leur fureurs: Elle a dans sa main la
baguette ou tinte la clochette des charmeurs! enchanter! L'etranger la
regarde, Elle reste eblouie. Il est plus beau que les Rajahs! Il
rougira, s'il sait qu'il doit La vie a la fille des Parias. Mais lui,
l'endormant dans un reve, Jusque dans le ciel il l'enleve, En lui
disant: 'ta place et la!' C'etait Vishnu, fils de Brahma! Depuis ce jour
au fond de bois, Le voyageur entend parfois Le bruit leger de la
baguette Ou tinte la clochette des charmeurs!
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Where goes the young Indian girl, daughter of the pariahs, When the moon it plays, On the tall mimosa trees? She runs over the moss And she doesn't remember That everywhere is shunned The child of the pariahs; Past the pink laurels, Dreaming of sweet things, Ah! She passes without noise And smiles(laughs) at the night. Over there in the forest more dark, Who is the traveller, lost? All around him The eyes shine in the shadows, He wanders on bewildered and lost! The wild beasts roar with pleasure, They go to pounce(jump) on their prey, The young girl runs up And braves their fury: She has in her hand the wand Where tinkle the bells of the enchanter! The stranger looks at her, She stands dazzled. He is more beautiful than all the Rahjas! He will blush, if he realizes(knows) that he owes His life to the daughter of pariahs. But he, lulling her to sleep in a dream, He transports her to heaven, And telling her: 'your place is there!' It was Vishnu, son of Brahma! Since that day in the depths of the forest, The traveller may sometimes hear The faint sound of the wand Where tinkle the bells of the enchanter! Translated by Elise Curran (found on www.aria-database.com)
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Where goes the young Indian girl, daughter of the pariahs, When the moon it plays, On the tall mimosa trees? She runs over the moss And she doesn't remember That everywhere is shunned The child of the pariahs; Past the pink laurels, Dreaming of sweet things, Ah! She passes without noise And smiles(laughs) at the night. Over there in the forest more dark, Who is the traveller, lost? All around him The eyes shine in the shadows, He wanders on bewildered and lost! The wild beasts roar with pleasure, They go to pounce(jump) on their prey, The young girl runs up And braves their fury: She has in her hand the wand Where tinkle the bells of the enchanter! The stranger looks at her, She stands dazzled. He is more beautiful than all the Rahjas! He will blush, if he realizes(knows) that he owes His life to the daughter of pariahs. But he, lulling her to sleep in a dream, He transports her to heaven, And telling her: 'your place is there!' It was Vishnu, son of Brahma! Since that day in the depths of the forest, The traveller may sometimes hear The faint sound of the wand Where tinkle the bells of the enchanter! Translated by Elise Curran (found on www.aria-database.com)
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