Henri Duparc (January 1848-February 1933) was a French composer during the

late Romantic period. He was born in Paris and studied piano with Cesar Franck.He is
best known for his 17 mlodies, or art songs. He worked with poets such as Goethe,
Leconte de Lisle, Gautier, and Baudelaire. Due to a mental illness, he stopped
composing at the age of 37. He later became completely blind and destroyed most of
his works, leaving about 40.
These four melodies were composed at different times, but all show the
contrapuntal accompaniment and sensitivity to poetry and music that were
characteristic to Duparc. The first song of this set, Au pays ou se fait la guerre is a
poem by Gautier in three parts of a woman who awaits her loves return from a
country where war is waged. The piano of this song sets a weary mood, something
like a vigil. The music and poetry are very closely connected and relate throughout
the song. The second is Linvitation au voyage, a text by Baudelaire. This song
shows a closely connected relationship between piano and voice, and a deep
expression of sensuality in both. The scene is of someone inviting their lover to a
place where there is nothing but "order and beauty, luxury, calm, and
voluptuousness." Duparc only set two of three stanzas of the poem. Soupir, the
third song, is one of the songs untouched by Duparcs insecurities about his own
music. It features text by Sully Prudhomme, and tell the story of a man mourning the
loss of his wife. This song is home to a beautiful and subtle theme. The final song,
Chanson triste, is simply a song of love. The poetry is by Jean Lahor and tells of
summer moonlight and love. The arpeggio of the piano accompanies the tender and
intimate sentiments of the voice, painting with a skipping radiation of caresses and
love.

Au pays o se fait la guerre

Mon bel ami s'en est all ;
Il semble mon cur dsol
Qu'il ne reste que moi sur terre !
En partant, au baiser d'adieu,
Il m'a pris mon me ma bouche.
Qui le tient si longtemps, mon Dieu ?
Voil le soleil qui se couche,
Et moi, toute seule en ma tour,
J'attends encore son retour.

Les pigeons sur le toit roucoulent,

Roucoulent amoureusement ;
Avec un son triste et charmant
Les eaux sous les grands saules coulent.
Je me sens tout prs de pleurer ;
Mon cur comme un lis plein s'panche,
Et je n'ose plus esprer.
Voici briller la lune blanche,
Et moi, toute seule en ma tour,
J'attends encore son retour.

Quelqu'un monte grands pas la rampe :

Serait-ce lui, mon doux amant ?
Ce n'est pas lui, mais seulement
Mon petit page avec ma lampe.
Vents du soir, volez, dites-lui
Qu'il est ma pense et mon rve,
Toute ma joie et mon ennui.
Voici que l'aurore se lve,
Et moi, toute seule en ma tour,
J'attends encore son retour.
To the country where war is waged
My beautiful love departed.
It seems to my desolate heart
That I alone remain on earth.
When leaving, at our kiss goodbye,
He took my soul from my mouth...
Who is holding him back so long, O God?
There is the sun setting.
And I, all alone in my tower,
I still await his return.
The pigeons on the roof are cooing,
Cooing lovingly
With a sad and charming sound;
The waters under the large willows flow...
I feel ready to cry;
My heart, like a full lily, overflows
And I no longer dare to hope.
Here gleams the white moon.
And I, all alone in my tower,
I still await his return.
Someone is climbing the ramp rapidly.
Could it be him, my sweet love?
It isn't him, but only
My little page with my lamp.
Evening winds, veiled, tell him
That he is my thoughts and my dream,
All my joy and my longing.
Here is the dawn rising.
And I, all alone in my tower,
I still await his return.
LInvitation au Voyage
Mon enfant, ma sur,
Songe la douceur
D'aller l-bas vivre ensemble,
Aimer loisir,
Aimer et mourir
Au pays qui te ressemble.
Les soleils mouills
De ces ciels brouills
Pour mon esprit ont les charmes
Si mystrieux
De tes tratres yeux,
Brillant travers leurs larmes.
L, tout n'est qu'ordre et beaut,
Luxe, calme et volupt.
Vois sur ces canaux
Dormir ces vaisseaux
Dont l'humeur est vagabonde;
C'est pour assouvir
Ton moindre dsir
Qu'ils viennent du bout du monde.
Les soleils couchants
Revtent les champs,
Les canaux, la ville entire,
D'hyacinthe et d'or;
Le monde s'endort
Dans une chaude lumire!
L, tout n'est qu'ordre et beaut,
Luxe, calme et volupt.
Soupir
Ne jamais la voir ni l'entendre,
Ne jamais tout haut la nommer,
Mais, fidle, toujours l'attendre,
Toujours l'aimer!
Ouvrir les bras, et, las d'attendre,
Sur la nant les refermer!
Mais encor, toujours les lui tendre
Toujours l'aimer.
Ah! ne pouvoir que les lui tendre
Et dans les pleurs se consumer,
Mais ces pleurs toujours les rpandre,
Toujours l'aimer...
Ne jamais la voir ni l'entendre,
Ne jamais tout haut la nommer,
Mais d'un amour toujours plus tendre
Toujours l'aimer. Toujours!
My child, my sister,
think of the sweetness
of going there to live together!
To love at leisure,
to love and to die
in a country that is the image of you!
The misty suns
of those changeable skies
have for me the same
mysterious charm
as your fickle eyes
shining through their tears.
There, all is harmony and beauty,
luxury, calm and delight.
See how those ships,
nomads by nature,
are slumbering in the canals.
To gratify
your every desire
they have come from the ends of the earth.
The westering suns
clothe the fields,
the canals, and the town
with reddish-orange and gold.
The world falls asleep
bathed in warmth and light.
There, all is harmony and beauty,
luxury, calm and delight.
Never to see or hear her,
never to name her aloud,
but faithfully always to wait for her
and love her.
To open my arms and, tired of waiting,
to close them on nothing,
but still always to stretch them out to her
and to love her.
To only be able to stretch them out to her,
and then to be consumed in tears,
but always to shed these tears,
always to love her.
Never to see or hear her,
never to name her aloud,
but with a love that grows ever more tender,
always to love her. Always!
Chanson Triste
Dans ton cur dort un clair de lune,
In your heart moonlight lies dormant,
Un doux clair de lune d't,
A gentle moonlight of summer;
Et loin de la vie importune,
And far from the troubles of life,
Je me viens perdre en ta clart.
I will lose myself in your brightness.
J'oublierai les douleurs passes,
I will forget past griefs,
Mon amour, quand tu berceras
My love, when you rock
Mon triste cur et mes penses
My unhappy heart and my thoughts
Dans le calme aimant de tes bras.
In the loving tranquility of your arms.
Tu prendras ma tte malade,
You will lay my anxious head,
Oh ! certain soir sur tes genoux,
Oh! - some evenings - upon your lap,
Et lui diras une ballade
And you will utter to it a ballad
Qui semblera parler de nous ;
That will seem to speak of us;
Et dans tes yeux pleins de tristesse,
And from your eyes so full of sadness,
Dans tes yeux alors je boirai
From your eyes I will then drink
Tant de baisers et de tendresses
So many kisses and so much tenderness
Que peut-tre je gurirai.
That perhaps at last I will be healed.