Jean Racine

Rating: 4.33
Rating: 4.33

Jean Racine Poems

Dieu fait triompher l'innocence;
Chantons, celebrons sa puissance.

Jean Racine Biography

Jean Racine (December 1639 – April 21, 1699) was a French dramatist, one of the "Big Three" of 17th century France (along with Molière and Corneille), and one of the most important literary figures in the Western tradition. Racine was primarily a tragedian, producing such 'examples of neoclassical perfection' as Phedre, Andromaque, and Athalie, although he did write one comedy, Les Plaideurs, and a muted tragedy,Esther, for the young. Racine's plays displayed his mastery of the dodecasyllabic alexandrine; his verse is renowned for elegance, purity, speed, and fury, and for what Robert Lowell described as a 'diamond-edge', and the 'glory of its hard, electric rage'. Racine's works are widely considered to be untranslable, although many eminent poets have attempted to do so, including Lowell, Ted Hughes, and Derek Mahon into English, and Schiller into German. Racine's dramaturgy is marked by his psychological insight, the prevailing passion of his characters, and the nakedness of both the plot and stage.)

The Best Poem Of Jean Racine

Choer D'Esther


Dieu fait triompher l'innocence;
Chantons, celebrons sa puissance.


Il a vu contre nous les mechants s'assembler,
Et notre sang pret a couler;
Comme l'eau sur la terre ils allaient le repandre:
Du haut du ciel sa voix s'est fait entendre,
L'homme superbe est renverse,
Ses propres fleches l'ont perce.


J'ai vu l'impie adore sur la terre;
Pareil au cedre il cachait dans les cieux
Son front audacieux;
Il semblait a son gre gouverner le tonnerre,
Foulait aux pieds ses ennemis vaincus:
Je n'ai fait que passer, il n'etait deja plus.


Que le Seigneur est bon! que son joug est aimable!
Heureux qui des l'enfance en connait la douceur'
Jeune peuple, courez a ce maitre adorable;
Les biens les plus charmants n'ont rien de


Aux torrents de plaisirs qu'il repand dans un

Que le Seigneur est bon! que son joug est aimable!
Heureux qui des l'enfance en connait la douceur!


Il s'apaise, il pardonne;
Du coeur ingrat qui l'abandonne
Il attend le retour;
Il excuse notre faiblesse;
A nous chercher meme il s'empresse:
Pour l'enfant qu'elle a mis au jour
Une mere a moins de tendresse.
Ah! qui peut avec lui partager notre amour!


Il nous fait remporter une illustre victoire.

Il nous a revele sa gloire.


Ah! qui peut avec lui partager notre amour!


Que son nom soit beni; que son nom soit chante;
Que Ton celebre ses ouvrages
Au dela des temps et des ages,
Au dela de l'eternite

Jean Racine Comments

Jean Racine Quotes

Do you think you can be righteous and holy with impunity?

Tired of being of loved, he wants to be feared.

I would soon fear him, if he did not still fear me.

When will the veil be lifted that casts so black a night over the universe? God of Israel, lift at last the gloom: For how long will you be hidden?

All is asleep: the army, the wind, and Neptune.

The principal rule of art is to please and to move. All the other rules were created to achieve this first one.

A tragedy need not have blood and death: It's enough ... that it all be filled with that majestic sadness that is the pleasure of tragedy.

In a month, in a year, how will we bear that so many seas separate me from you?

And forever goodbye! Forever! Oh, Sir, can you imagine how dreadful this cruel word sounds when one loves?

Too much virtue can be criminal.

On the throne, one has many worries; and remorse is the one that weighs the least.

Hated everywhere, they hate all men.

I have loved him too much not to hate him!

Ah, why can't I know if I love, or if I hate?

I loved you when you were unfaithful; what would I have done if you were true?

Some smaller crimes always precede the great crimes.

I have pushed virtue to outright brutality.

The joys of the evil flow away like a torrent.

Justice in the extreme is often unjust.

She lifts the shadows from my blackest griefs, and makes even my darkest days serene ones.

The part I remember best is the beginning.

What does it matter if, by chance, a little vile blood be spilled?

There are no secrets that time does not reveal.

Do not doubt it, he loves. Instructed by so many charms, his eyes have been trained in the use of tears.

I embrace my rival, but only to strangle him.

To save our imperiled honor everything must be sacrificed, even virtue.

Love is not a fire to be shut up in a soul. Everything betrays us: voice, silence, eyes; half-covered fires burn all the brighter.

Finally my innocence begins to weigh me down.

Without money honor is merely a disease.

My death, taking the light from my eyes, gives back to the day the purity which they soiled.

It is no longer a flame hidden in my veins; now it is Venus in all her might fastened to her prey.

How these vain ornaments, how these veils oppress me!

By dying I wanted to maintain my honor, and hide a flame so black from the daylight!

Hippolytus can feel, and feels nothing for me!

Detestable flatterers! the most deadly gift that divine wrath may give a king!

I felt for my crime a just terror; I looked on my life with hate, and my passion with horror.

Sun, I come to see you for the last time.

I will die if I lose you, but I will die if I wait longer.

Vanquished, led in irons, consumed by regrets, burnt by more fires than I ever lit.

Sir, that much prudence calls for too much worry; I cannot foresee misfortunes so far away.

The day is not purer than the depths of my heart.

If I hated her, I would not need to flee her.

Let us praise his works beyond the ages and times, beyond eternity!

A noble heart cannot suspect in others the pettiness and malice that it has never felt.

Hell, covering all with its gloomy vapors, has cast shadows on even the holiest eyes.

Is a faith without action a sincere faith?

The glory of my name increases my shame. Less known by mortals, I could better escape their eyes.

You feign guilt in order to justify yourself.

For five years I have seen her each day, and each time I believe it is for the first time.

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