
Today's reading celebrates Bastille Day and all that is French (we might also like to mention The World Cup this evening - Allez La France!). Searching today for an Anglo-French reading for your wedding we came upon Paul Verlaine’s 1872 poem "Green" which we've translated below. We've also created a handy printable which you can access here. Paul Verlaine (1844–1896) was a French poet who bridged the gap between romanticism and modernism and was famously dubbed the "Prince of Poets" by his contemporaries. This poem is a beautifully tender, intimate choice for a wedding reading, with its nature imagery asking for the speaker to find peace from the "sweet tumult" of love on the beloved's breast. The words call for offering a full heart to one’s beloved, while seeking peace, comfort, and sweet rest together and might strike just the right note for the Francophiles amongst us. It would also be a lovely one to consider for an Irish-Gallic match, or for a wedding celebration in France. The words are below: Green by Paul Verlaine See, blossoms, branches, fruit, leaves I have brought, The dew upon my hair is still undried,— Allow my head, that rings and echoes still Here are the words in French: Voici des fruits, des fleurs, des feuilles et des branches, J’arrive, tout couvert encore de rosée Sur votre jeune sein, laissez rouler ma tête Want more ideas for French weddings? See our posts on The Best Luxury Wedding Venues in France and Wedding Abroad Guide: Destination Weddings in France and get lots more ideas for ceremony readings here.
And then my heart that for you only sighs;
With those white hands of yours, oh, tear it not,
But let the poor gift prosper in your eyes.
The morning wind strikes chilly where it fell.
Suffer my weariness here at your side
To dream the hour that shall it quite dispel.
With your last kiss, to lie upon your breast,
Till it recover from the stormy thrill,—
And let me sleep a little, since you rest
Et puis voici mon cœur qui ne bat que pour vous.
Ne le déchirez pas avec vos deux mains blanches,
Et qu'à vos yeux si beaux l'humble présent soit doux.
Que le vent du matin vient glacer à mon front.
Souffrez que ma fatigue, a vos pieds reposée,
Rêve des chers instants qui la délasseront.
Toute sonore encore de vos derniers baisers,
Laissez-la s’apaiser de la bonne tempête,
Et que je dorme un peu puisque vous reposez.

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