Julos Beaucarne — Je ne songeais pas à Rose song lyrics and translation
The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "Je ne songeais pas à Rose" by Julos Beaucarne.
Lyrics
Je ne songeais pas à Rose;
Rose au bois vint avec moi;
Nous parlions de quelque chose,
Mais je ne sais plus de quoi.
J'étais froid comme les marbres;
Je marchais à pas distraits;
Je parlais des fleurs, des arbres
Son il semblait dire: Après?
La rosée offrait ses perles,
Le taillis ses parasols;
J’allais; j'écoutais les merles,
Et Rose les rossignols.
Je ne songeais pas à Rose;
Rose au bois vint avec moi;
Nous parlions de quelque chose,
Mais je ne sais plus de quoi.
Moi, seize ans, et l’air morose.
Elle vingt; ses yeux brillaient.
Les rossignols chantaient Rose
Et les Merles me sifflaient.
Rose, droite sur ses hanches,
Leva son beau bras tremblait
Pour prendre une mûre aux branches
Je ne vis pas son bras blanc.
Je ne songeais pas à Rose;
Rose au bois vint avec moi;
Nous parlions de quelque chose,
Mais je ne sais plus de quoi.
Une eau courait, fraîche et creuse,
Sur les mousses de velours
Et la nature amoureuse
Dormait dans les grands bois sourds.
Rose défit sa chaussure,
Et mit, d’un air ingénu,
Joli petit pied dans l’eau pure
Je ne vis pas son pied nu Je ne songeais pas à Rose;
Rose au bois vint avec moi;
Nous parlions de quelque chose,
Mais je ne sais plus de quoi.
Je ne savais que lui dire;
Je la suivais dans le bois,
La voyant parfois sourire
Et soupirer quelquefois.
Je ne vis qu’elle était belle
Qu’en sortant des grands bois sourds.
— Soit; n’y pensons plus ! dit-elle,
Depuis, j’y pense toujours.
Je ne songeais pas à Rose;
Rose au bois vint avec moi;
Nous parlions de quelque chose,
Mais je ne sais plus de quoi.
La rosée offrait ses perles,
Le taillis ses parasols;
J’allais; j'écoutais les merles,
Et Rose les rossignols.
Je ne vis qu’elle était belle
Qu’en sortant des grands bois sourds.
— Soit; n’y pensons plus ! dit-elle,
Depuis, j’y pense toujours.
Lyrics translation
I wasn't thinking about Rose.;
Rose to the wood came with me;
We were talking about something.,
But I don't know what else.
I was cold as marbles;
I was walking in distracted footsteps;
I was talking about flowers, trees
His it seemed to say: after?
The dew offered its pearls,
The trimming his umbrellas;
I went; I listened to the Blackbirds,
And Rose The Nightingales.
I wasn't thinking about Rose.;
Rose to the wood came with me;
We were talking about something.,
But I don't know what else.
Me, sixteen years old, and you look gloomy.
She twenty; her eyes shone.
The Nightingales sang Pink
And the Blackbirds whistled at me.
Pink, straight on her hips,
Lifted her beautiful arm trembled
To take a BlackBerry to the branches
I don't see his white arm.
I wasn't thinking about Rose.;
Rose to the wood came with me;
We were talking about something.,
But I don't know what else.
A water ran, fresh and hollow,
On velvet foams
And nature in love
Slept in the big deaf Woods.
Rose undoes her shoe,
And mit, of a naive air,
Pretty Little Foot in pure water
I didn't see his bare foot I didn't think of Rose;
Rose to the wood came with me;
We were talking about something.,
But I don't know what else.
I didn't know what to say to her.;
I followed her into the woods,
Seeing her sometimes smile
And sigh sometimes.
I only saw that she was beautiful
That coming out of the big deaf Woods.
- Let's not think about it anymore ! she says,
I've been thinking about it ever since.
I wasn't thinking about Rose.;
Rose to the wood came with me;
We were talking about something.,
But I don't know what else.
The dew offered its pearls,
The trimming his umbrellas;
I went; I listened to the Blackbirds,
And Rose The Nightingales.
I only saw that she was beautiful
That coming out of the big deaf Woods.
- Let's not think about it anymore ! she says,
I've been thinking about it ever since.