Thursday, March 29, 2012

Ballade: Du Concours De Blois Comments

Rating: 2.8
I'm dying of thirst beside the fountain,
Hot as fire, and with chattering teeth:
In my own land, I'm in a far domain:
Near the flame, I shiver beyond belief


François Villon
Václav Z J Pinkava 20 October 2013
I thirst to death next to the fountain's spray, I burn like flame my teeth by chatt'ring rent, In my own land I am an emigré; Next to the blazing hearth by shivering spent; I am worm-naked, fine-dressed as a gent; I laugh in tears, enduring hopeless lows; Comfort obtain as sad despair does grow; Pleasures don't satisfy, or bring me fun; Strong without force of arms or power to throw, Warmly received, dismissed by everyone. I am not sure, until I'm cast away, I am unclear, where all is evident; I only doubt the certain, trust the grey; Knowledge obtain from sudden accident; I win, keep playing on, all winnings spent; At daybreak Goodnight all! I say and go, When lying prone, I fear of vertigo; I'm well to do, while chattels I have none; I am an heir unwilled, to none I know, Warmly received, dismissed by everyone. Nothing I care, painstaking on my way Much to beget, to claim it reticent; Who praises me, on him the blame I lay, Who speaks most earnest is most crooked, bent; A friend is he who brings the sentiment That the white swan is but a charcoal crow, Who to empower me offers me a blow. Truth makes no odds to me, all said and done. I retain all, mindful of nothing, though, Warmly received, dismissed by everyone. Kindly prince, let the record duly show: Though much I see, no sense do I allow.; Though I take sides, there's no side that I shun. What next to do? Claim back my keep somehow, Warmly received, dismissed by everyone. (translated by VZJP 2006)
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