The night is wet and stormy

Text by Heinrich Heine (1797-1856)
Traduit en franšais par Joseph Massaad 

deutsch - franšais

The night is wet and stormy,
And void of stars is the sky;
Under the forest rustling trees,
I wander silently by.

Far off, a candle flickers
From the huntsman's lonely room;
I shall not be lured by it:
It appears too wrapped in doom.

There sits the blind old granny,
In a high-back leather chair;
Stiff like a statue, uncanny,
She listens silently there.

Angrily cursing and pacing,
The huntsman's read-headed son,
Bursts in a furious laughter,
And flings to the wall his gun.

The pretty spinner is weeking
And moistens the thread with her tears;
At her feet, the father's badger,
Crouches, whimpering with fears.