Le Chant Des Voyageurs
(Song of the Travelers)
by
Octave Crémazie
English Translation
With us, wood and their mysteries,
who for us do not have any more secrecies!
With us, the river with the clear waves
where the forest reflects.
With us, the wild existence,
full with attractions and pains!
With us, the fir trees of which shade,
refreshes us in our labours.
In the forest and on the cage,
we are thirty travelers.
Facing the lightning and the storms
with their solemn aspect,
They are beautiful, these pines of which the heads
seem the columns of the sky!
When deprived of their foliage,
they fall under our victorious blows,
One would say that in the cloud,
the spirit of wood pours tears.
In the forest and on the cage,
we are thirty travelers.
When the night's dark veils
cover our wood huts,
we look at passing, the shades
of Algonquins, Iroquois.
They come, these kings from another age,
to reveal their antiques sizes
with these ancient oaks that the storm
could not break in its furies.
In the forest and on the cage,
we are thirty travelers.
Then on the cage which advances
with the floods of the St. Lawrence,
we call out our childhood.
The soft and charming memory,
The blonde left at the village,
Our mothers and our young sisters
who await us on the shore,
in turn, make our hearts beat.
In the forest and on the cage,
we are thirty travelers.
When sad old age comes
to weaken our arms and our voices,
we will tell with youth
of our adventures of the past.
When finally, for this great voyage
where all the men are oarsmen,
death will come to shout us: Swim!
We will say, facing its terrors:
In the forest and on the cage,
we were thirty travelers.
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