BALLADE QUE VILLON FEIT
À LA REQUESTE DE SA MEREBALADE: FOR PRAYERS TO OUR LADY
POUR PRIER NOSTRE-DAME
François Villontr. Peter Dean
Dame des cieulx, regente terrienne,
Emperiere des infernaux paluz,
Recevez moy, vostre humble chrestienne,
Que comprinse soye entre vos esleuz,
Ce non obstant qu'oncques rien ne valuz.
Les biens de vous, ma dame et ma maistresse,
Sont trop plus grans que ne suis pecheresse,
Sans lesquelz biens ame ne peut merir
N'avoir les cieulx, je n'en suis jungleresse.
En ceste foi je vueil vivre et mourir.

A vostre Filz dictes que je suis sienne;
De luy soyent mes pechiez aboluz:
Pardonne moy comme a l'Egipcienne,
Ou comme il feist au clerc Théophilus,
Lequel par vous fut quitte et absoluz,
Combien qu'il eust au deable fait promesse.
Preservez moy, que ne face jamais ce,
Vierge portant, sans rompure encourir
Le sacrement qu'on celebre à la messe.
En ceste foy je vueil vivre et mourir.

Femme je suis povrette et ancienne,
Qui riens ne sçay; oncques lettre ne leuz;
Au moustier voy dont suis paroissienne
Paradis paint, où sont harpes et luz,
Et ung enfer où dampnez sont boulluz:
L'ung me fait paour, l'autre joye et liesse,
La joye avoir me fay, haulte Deesse,
A qui pecheurs doivent tous recourir,
Comblez de foy, sans fainte ne paresse.
En ceste foy je vueil vivre et mourir.

ENVOI
Vous portastes, digne Vierge, princesse,
Iesus regnant, qui n'a ne fin ne cesse.
Le Tout-Puissant, prenant nostre foiblesse,
Laissa les cieulx et nous vint secourir,
Offrit à mort sa tres chiere jeunesse.
Nostre Seigneur tel est, tel le confesse,
En ceste foy je vueil vivre et mourir.
 O Lady of the sky, our earthly queen
and empress of the infernal regions,
let me, your humble Christian, be seen -
although of little worth - among the legions
of the Elect (to whom I bring contagions).
The good, Lady and Mistress, had from you
stands higher than to my sum of sins is due
and without which my soul sets nothing by.
Not to have Heaven, I’m left an imposter, too.
In this belief I wish to live and die.

Tell your Son I am His and by His death
have all my sins been washed away.
Your pardon, let me have it in a breath
as did the Egyptian maid, or as, they say,
the clerk Theophilus was quitted though he may
have made a compact with the devil:
preserve me from ever doing such evil.
O Virgin, who bore without blemish on high
the sacrament, our faith restore and fill:
in this belief I wish to live and die.

Though I’m a very poor old woman who
is ignorant and cannot even read,
yet I see, in the church that I go to,
if Eden’s shown with harps and lutes they need
a Hell for any who’s done a bad deed.
One frightens me, the other gives me joy.
Great Goddess, for all that sinners enjoy
when getting back their innocence, I cry
to be cramful of faith, not sloth nor toy:
in this belief I wish to live and die.

ENVOI
Virgin and worthiest Princess, you bore
In your womb Jesus who reigns forever more.
Leaving the heavenly skies above He wore
Like us our human form to try
Offering His precious youth to death’s ravage sore:
No other can there be than Our Saviour:
in this belief I wish to live and die.
Click here 1 for another translation of this poem.
Trans. Copyright © Peter Dean 2003 







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