BALLADE EN VIEIL LANGAGE BALADE: IN THE OLD FRENCH
FRANÇOYS
François Villontr. Peter Dean
Car ou soit ly sains appostolles,
D'aubes vestuz, d'amys coeffez,
Qui ne seint fors saintes estolles
Dont par le col prent ly mauffez
De mal talant tout eschauffez.
Aussi bien meurt que cilz servans,
De ceste vie cy buffez:
Autant en emporte ly vens!

Voire, ou soit de Constantinobles
L'emperieres au poing dorez,
Ou de France le roy tres nobles
Sur tous autres roys decorez,
Qui pour ly grant Dieux adorez
Batist eglises et couvens,
S'en son temps il fut honnorez,
Autant en emporte ly vens!

Ou soit de Vïenne et de Grenobles
Ly Dauphin, ly preux, ly senez,
Ou de Dijon, Salins et Dolles,
Ly sires filz le plus esnez
Ou autant de leurs gens prenez
Hereaux, trompectes, poursuivans,
Ont ilz bien boutez soubz le nez,
Autant en emporte ly vens!

Princes a mort sont destinez,
Et tous autres qui sont vivnans;
S'ilz en sont courcez n'atinez,
Autant en emporte ly vens!
For whether they’re apostolic saints,
fitted with haloes, loved by all,
whose virtues by no evil taints
could be dragged out of them, nor fall
into whatever kind of sin -
like serving lads they have their day,
torn from the only life they’re in:
they’re carried by the wind away.

It no more matters if they be
gold-fingered Emperors of Constantinople
or of all kings of France the apogee,
the one most honoured and most noble,
who built, to show his love of Heaven,
convent and church in which to pray,
so that his age worshipped him even:
they’re carried by the wind away.

Or be it Dauphins of Vienne
or of Grenoble, mighty, venerable,
Dijon, Salines and Doles, great men,
fathers and elder sons, all able;
or it may be their private staff -
heralds, flutes, those who trumpets play:
haven’t they fed well, had much to quaff?
They’re carried by the wind away.

Princes to death, too, are foredoomed:
with all things living it holds sway;
whether they’re ready, once it’s loomed
they’re carried by the wind away.

Trans. Copyright © Peter Dean 2003


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