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Pub. 1554. This edition is offered at original pitch for S.A.T.B. or transposed down a fourth for A.T.T.B.
Lyrics: Anon
Plût à Dieu que fusse arrondelle,
O le grand plaisir que j'aurais,
Et voler aussi fort comme elle.
Bien loin d'ici tôt je serais,
Vers mon ami je m'en irais,
Fut il au plus haut d'une tour,
Et en le baisant lui dirais:
"Voici l'arronde de retour!"
Please God, I would be a swallow.
Oh! I would have such great pleasure,
And fly as strongly as she does,
I would be faraway from here.
I would go to my lover,
Be he at the top of a tower,
And kissing him, I would say:
"Look, it's the swallows' return!"
Plût à Dieu que fusse arrondelle,
O le grand plaisir que j'aurais,
Et voler aussi fort comme elle.
Bien loin d'ici tôt je serais,
Vers mon ami je m'en irais,
Fut il au plus haut d'une tour,
Et en le baisant lui dirais:
"Voici l'arronde de retour!"
Please God, I would be a swallow.
Oh! I would have such great pleasure,
And fly as strongly as she does,
I would be faraway from here.
I would go to my lover,
Be he at the top of a tower,
And kissing him, I would say:
"Look, it's the swallows' return!"