This translation takes liberties in order to give the "feel" of the tightly rhymed and very moving original. (The original rhymes ABAB virtually all the way through and has one extended line, beyond the normal bars of music: Which was denied them/ For the sake of an old refrain).
On my CD, it says words by Barbara, music by Jean Poissonnier; other sources indicate vice versa. In either case, it's a powerful song.
I translated it a few days ago, on the 40th anniversary of my grandmother's death; she was in her late teens during WWI, and she and her sister both lost boyfriends to the war.
The Orchard in Lorraine
All the blood that was shed
By men upon the plain
And all who passed away
From causes unexplained
Have led to this orchard
Where crowding each lane
Roses and apple trees
And marjoram reign
All those who have cried
That their death was in vain
All those who have wept
Face down in the vervain
All those who drew here
Their last breath in pain
Have made of this orchard
On a bank in Lorraine
A soft space for lovers
As seasons come again.
All those overthrown
Where no time remains
To say, What I love
Is your eyes, amazed.
All those fiancées
Who waited in vain
Those men torn away
Before vows were obtained
Smile now to see
The lovers who came
To lie on the grass here
With their lips aflame
All those who left love
However mundane
With limbs that were shattered
No blood in their veins,
All those we have wept
In former wars slain
Those we’ve forgotten,
The nameless, the plain,
Rise now to sing
When the lovers attain
Carefree and peaceful
The gentle exchange
Which was denied them
For the sake of an old refrain.
All the blood that was shed
By men upon the plain
All the blood that was shed
By men upon the plain
And all who passed away
From causes unexplained
Have led to this orchard
Where crowding each lane
Roses and apple trees
And marjoram reign
All those who have cried
That their death was in vain
All those who have wept
Face down in the vervain
All those who drew here
Their last breath in pain
Have made of this orchard
On a bank in Lorraine
A soft space for lovers
As seasons come again.
All those overthrown
Where no time remains
To say, What I love
Is your eyes, amazed.
All those fiancées
Who waited in vain
Those men torn away
Before vows were obtained
Smile now to see
The lovers who came
To lie on the grass here
With their lips aflame
All those who left love
However mundane
With limbs that were shattered
No blood in their veins,
All those we have wept
In former wars slain
Those we’ve forgotten,
The nameless, the plain,
Rise now to sing
When the lovers attain
Carefree and peaceful
The gentle exchange
Which was denied them
For the sake of an old refrain.
All the blood that was shed
By men upon the plain
From causes unexplained
Have led to this orchard
Where crowding each lane
Roses and apple trees
And marjoram reign
Have made of this orchard
On a bank in Lorraine
A soft space for lovers
As seasons come again
Have led to this orchard
Where crowding each lane
Roses and apple trees
And marjoram reign
Have made of this orchard
On a bank in Lorraine
A soft space for lovers
As seasons come again
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