Ma Normandie

Quand tout renaît à l'espérance,
Et que l'hiver fuit loin de nous,
Sous le beau ciel de nôtre France,
Quand le soleil revient plus doux,
Quand la nature est reverdie,
Quand l'hirondelle est de retour,
J'aime à revoir ma Normandie!
C'est le pays qui m'a donné le jour.

J'ai vu les champs de l'Helvétie,
Et ses chalets et ses glaciers;
J'ai vu le ciel de l'Italie,
Et Venise et ses gondoliers.
En saluant chaque patrie,
Je me disais : aucun séjour
N'est plus beau que ma Normandie!
C'est le pays qui m'a donné le jour.

Il est un âge dans la vie,
Où chaque rêve doit finir,
Un âge où l'âme recueillie
A besoin de se souvenir.
Lorsque ma muse refroidie
Aura fini ses chants d'amour,
J'irai revoir ma Normandie!
C'est le pays qui m'a donné le jour.

When far from us the Winter flies,
When the world is born to hope anew,
Under France's lovely skies,
When the sun returns in sweeter hue,
When Nature 'round us greener be,
When swallows homeward wing their way,
I love to see my Normandy,
The land that gave to me the light of day.

Switzerland's dales I did behold,
And her chalets and glaciers blue;
I've seen Italian skies of gold,
And the gondoliers of Venice too.
Although these lands enchanted me,
I knew there was no hideaway
More lovely than my Normandy,
The land that gave to me the light of day.

There comes a time, as life unfolds,
That brings an end to reveries.
A time when must the ransomed soul
Revisit cherished memories.
When time has chilled my muse and me,
And songs of love are sung away,
I'll see again my Normandy,
The land that gave to me the light of day.

Quand tout renaît a l'espérance
et que l'hiver fuit loin de nous,
j'aime a revoir ma Normandie
quand le soleil devient plus doux.
Quand la nature est reverdie,
quand l'hirondelle est de retour,
j'aime a revoir ma Normandie...
C'est le pays qui m'a donné le jour!

J'ai vu les champs de l'Helvétie,
Et ses chalets et ses glaciers,
J'ai vu le ciel de l'Italie,
Et Venise et ses gondeliers.
En saluant chaque patrie,
Je me disais aucun séjour
N'est plus beau que ma Normandie,
C'est le pays qui m'a donné le jour.

Written in 1836 by Frédéric Bérat

When all is reborn to hope
And winter flees far from us
I love to see my Normandy again
When the sunshine turns so mild.
When nature is green once more,
When the swallows have returned,
I love to see my Normandy again...
It's the land that gave me light and life!

I have seen the countryside of Switzerland,
And its chalets and glaciers,
I have seen the sky of Italy,
And Venice and its gondeliers.
On saluting every fatherland,
I said to myself one stay there,
Not as beautiful as my Normandie,
The land that gave me life and light.

Translation: Wendell Hall
Tunes: Anonymous from internet

Why do I love this song? After 170 days of combat in World War II (France, Germany, Austria, northern Italy), I was given the opportunity (extended to all G.I.s with relatives in the same battle zone) to visit my brother Donald in London. What pleasure, relief, excitement, what unparalleled joy to be alive, on my way to visit my virtual twin, passing through one of creation's most beautiful localities.

I have made no attempt to capture the lovely rhyme, rhythm and sound of the French... Not possible. My translation is quite literal except for jour. As you know, it means day (Like many other lovers of France, French and the French, madame, monsieur, you know how to say "bone zhoor, monezhoor. You're not entertained, ma dam, m'syü?

Day just would not come across very well, so I made it "light and life." Not bad, eh? If you don't know the lovely melody, come by some day. I frequently sing Ma Normandie in the shower.

Relax! Be not alarmed. Supress your panic. I just found an anonymous midi. My students loved it when I taught this to them in French classes at Weber College (not yet Weber State University).

Note:

As the war ended, my 411th Infantry Regiment had crossed the Rhine River, the Danube River, and pressed forward through the Brenner Pass into Northern Italy. As a reward for valiant service, our commanding general, Anthony W. McAuliffe, hero of Bastogne's Battle of the Bulge (we fought in the southern sector), sent out a bulletin stating that any soldier with relatives fighting in the European Theater of Operations could apply for a visit with them.

I immediately applied and (some curious kind of glitch) the heavy wheels of burocracy meshed and I was soon in Normandie where (another glitch) I soon embarked on a channel ferry, arrived in Southampton, and boarded a train to London. Ah, man! Normandy! In springtime! The coldest winter of the century had finally ended. Only some years afterward, teaching French (along with Spanish and Italian) at Weber College, did I come across the beautiful song "Ma Normandie."

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