Paroles de Le Théatre de la Nature - Acte I : Le Combat

O my great nature How I admire thee Winter's not as it was foreseen Cold disappeared, no sign from the white queen So how are you going to enravel me again ? This a struggle I behold From the very depths of my lair Lone privileged in my art Those trees' rectitude and solidity Facing the wind's immense might... Ohh! The sublime unveils my fears Of a hidden truth... The clarity of an error Nature has just spoken... Blow! blow! Will the blows thou strike Surpass the strenght of the oaks ? Harmoniously bent, as to show thee That they still stand unscared... Then rain came blending with disorder, crowned Flying, whirling under the northwind's blow As a foe wondering about the side Gently giving itself to the reigning squalls Its droplets tenderly broke Upon the great Oak's bark... Among this union of sights and sounds My spirit meditates, hark and observe The great oak suffers - facing the gusts The noble wind gets out of breath - with its strikes...