| EPITAPHE | EPITAPH |
| LE GRAND TESTAMENT - CLXXVIII | THE TESTAMENT - CLXXVIII |
| François Villon | tr. Peter Dean |
|
CY GIST ET DORT EN CE SOLLIER, QU'AMOURS OCCIST DE SON RAILLON, UNG POVRE PETIT ESCOLLIER, QUI FUST NOMÉ FRANÇOYS VILLON. ONCQUES DE TERRE N'EUT SILLON. IL DONNA TOUT, CHASCUN LE SCET: TABLES, TRESTEAULX, PAIN, CORBEILLON. GALLANS, DICTES EN CE VERSET: VERSET (ou rondeau) Repos eternel, donne à cil, Sire, et clarté perpetuelle, Qui vaillant plat ni escuelle N'eut oncques, n'ung brain de percil. Il fut rez, chief, barbe et sourcil, Comme ung navet qu'on ret ou pelle. Repos eternel donne à cil. Rigueur le transmit en exil, Et luy frappa au cul la pelle, Non obstant qu'il dit: "J'en appelle!" Qui n'est pas terme trop subtil. Repos eternel donne à cil. |
HERE IN THIS ATTIC LIES AND SLEEPS ONE WHOM LOVE KILLED FOR ALL HIS JESTS, A POOR YOUNG SCHOLAR, GONE FOR KEEPS, NAMED FRANKIE VILLON: NOW HE RESTS. IN FIELD NOR FURROW WERE HIS TESTS. ALL KNOW, HE GAVE HIS ALL AWAY - TABLES AND BEDS, BREAD, BASKETS, CHESTS. LOVERS, THIS VERSE FOR HIM NOW SAY. RONDEAU O let him have eternal rest, Good Lord, and everlasting light. His wherewithal was always slight, not worth a sprig o’ parsley at best. As head, beard, eyebrows, shaven attest - he was a peeled swede ready to bite. O let him have eternal rest. Exile put him to the test and really kicked his arse a sight; yet "I appeal" he said with right, though not much subtlety (and trite). O let him have eternal rest. |
Trans. Copyright © Peter Dean 2003