“Puisque c’est ton métier, misérable poète” (A. de Musset)

Puisque c’est ton sort, chanteur misérable,

D’amuser la foule avec tes chansons;

Puisque pour ton coeur rien n’est préférable

Aux joyeux oiseaux de nos verts buissons ;

Puisque les heureux, ceux que la fortune

Couvre de ses dons, convie à ses jeux,

Écoutent parfois ta voix importune,

–Soupir de la brise ou vent orageux ;–

Puisque du balcon où ta chanson quête

Leurs bravos flatteurs, il tombe parfois

Quelques maigres sous, — tend-leur ta casquette !

Chante, donc ami de l’oiseau des bois !

Poem by Oswald Durand, Rire et Pleurs, vol. 1, p. 33. Read by Guervens Guermilus

"Since it is your profession, miserable poet" (A. de Musset)*

Since it is your fate, miserable singer,

To amuse crowds with your songs;

Since, for your heart, nothing is preferable

To the joyful birds of our green bushes;

Since the happy, those whom fortune

Showers with her gifts, invites to her games,

Sometimes listen to your unwelcome voice,

–Sigh of the breeze or stormy wind;–

Since from the balcony where your song begs

For flattering applause, there sometimes

fall a few meager pennies, — hand them your cap!

Sing, then, friend of the forest birds!

Translated by Guervens Guermilus

*Translator's Note: Alfred de Musset was a prominent Romantic poet and this line is drawn from the poem "Les Voeux stériles," which evokes the misery of a poet's life.