Ariettes Oubliées I: Je Devine À Travers Un Murmure...

I sense, through a whisper,
The subtle outline of ancient voices
And in the musical glimmers,
Pale love, a future dawn!
And my soul and my heart in rapture
Are nothing but a kind of double eye
Where flickers through a troubled day
The aria, alas! of all lyres!
Oh to die from this lonely death
That drifts away - dear love that frightens you -
Swinging young and old hours,
Oh to die from this seesaw!