Sonnet 12

Aussi tost que Marie en terre fut venue,
Le Ciel en fut marry, et la voulut ravoir :
A peine nostre siecle eut loisir de la voir,
Qu’elle s’esvanouyt comme un feu dans la nuë.
Des presens de Nature elle vint si pourveuë,
Et sa belle jeunesse avoit tant de pouvoir,
Qu’elle eust peu d’un regard les rochers esmouvoir,
Tant elle avoit d’attraits et d’amours en la veuë.
Ores la Mort jouït des beaux yeux que j’aimois,
La boutique et la forge, Amour, où tu t’armois.
Maintenant de ton camp cassé je me retire :
Je veux desormais vivre en franchise et tout mien :
Puisque tu m’as gardé l’honneur de ton empire,
Ta force n’est pas grande, et je le cognois bien.


                                                                                             As soon as Marie had come to earth
                                                                                             Heaven was upset at it, and wanted to have her back;
                                                                                             Our own age had barely time to see her,
                                                                                             Before she vanished like a fire in cloud.
                                                                                             She came so well-provided with the gifts of Nature
                                                                                             And her fair youth had such power
                                                                                             That she could almost move rocks with a glance,
                                                                                             Such charms and love she had in her look.
                                                                                             Now Death enjoys the fair eyes which I loved,
                                                                                             The shopfront and smithy where you armed yourself, Love.
                                                                                             Now I withdraw from your shattered camp;
                                                                                             I want in future to live freely and entirely my own man.
                                                                                             Since you were protecting for me the very symbol of your realm,
                                                                                             Your power is not great, and I well know it.


 Blanchemain has only one minor variant, in the penultimate line which he reads “Puisque tu n’as gardé …” (‘Since you didn’t protect …’)

About fattoxxon

Who am I? Lover of all sorts of music - classical, medieval, world (anything from Africa), world-classical (Uzbek & Iraqi magam for instance), and virtually anything that won't be on the music charts... Lover of Ronsard's poetry (obviously) and of sonnets in general. Reader of English, French, Latin & other literature. And who is Fattoxxon? An allusion to an Uzbek singer - pronounce it Patahan, with a very plosive 'P' and a throaty 'h', as in 'khan')

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