66



Adaptée du poème 66 de Gitanjali de Rabindranath Tagore
La traduction française est de André Gide, et est extraite de L'offrande lyrique (Rabindranath Tagore, éditions Gallimard)



(I found a joy of my own)
She who had always remained in the depth of my being
In the twilight of gleams and glimpses
She who had never smiled or given it up in the morning
Will be my last gift for you, folded into the last song

Words have wooed but never won her
Persuasion has reached to her but come up empty
I have gone from country to country keeping her in the core of my heart
And around her have risen and fallen the growth and decay of my life
Over my thoughts and actions, my slumbers and dreams, she ruled yet dwelled alone and apart
Nobody ever saw her face to face
And she stayed alone in her whatever you want to call it
Waiting for you to see her



66.

   She who ever had remained in the depth of my being, in the twilight of gleams and of glimpses ; she who never opened her veils in the morning light, will be my last gift to thee, my God, folded in my final song.
   Words have wooed yet failed to win her ; persuasion has stretched to her its eager arms in vain.
   I have roamed from country to country keeping her in the core of my heart, and around her have risen and fallen the growth and decay of my life.
   Over my thoughts and actions, my slumbers and dreams, she reigned yet dwelled alone and apart.
   Many a man knocked at my door and asked for her and turned away in despair.
   There was none in the world who ever saw her face to face, and she remained in her loneliness waiting for thy recognition.

66.

   Celle qui depuis toujours habite au profond de mon être, dans la pénombre et la demi-lueur ; celle qui jamais n'a soulevé son voile dans la lumière du matin — je l'enveloppe de mon dernier chant, mon Dieu, pour te l'offrir en don suprême.
   Les mots l'ont courtisée mais ne l'ont pas conquis ; en vain la persuasion tend vers elle ses bras ardents.
   J'ai rôdé de pays en pays, et je la gardais dans le coeur de mon coeur ; autour d'elle est monté et puis est retombé le flux et le reflux de ma vie.
   Sur mes pensées et sur mes actes, sur mes sommeils et sur mes rêves, elle règne, et pourtant réside à part et solitaire.
   Plus d'un a frappé à ma porte, l'a réclamée et s'en est retourné sans espoir.
   Nul au monde n'a jamais vu sa face ; elle attend que tu la reconnaisses.