Amours retranch. 41

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Dame, je meurs pour vous, je meurs pour vous, Madame,
Dame, je meurs pour vous, et si ne vous en chaut:
Je sens pour vous au Coeur un brasier si treschaut,
Que pour le refroidir, je veux bien rendre l’ame.
 
Vous aurez pour jamais un scandaleux diffame
Si vous me meurdrissez sans vous faire un defaut.
Ha que voulez-vous dire? est-ce ainsi comme il faut
Par une cruauté vous honnorer d’un blasme ?
 
Non, vous ne me pouvez reprocher que je sois
Un effronté menteur: car mon teint et ma vois,
Et mon chef ja grison vous servent d’asseurance,
 
Et mes yeux trop enflez, et mon coeur plein d’émoy.
Hé que feray-je plus! puis que nulle creance
Il ne vous plaist donner aux témoins de ma foy.
 
 
 
 
                                                                            My Lady, I am dying for you, I am dying for you my Lady,
                                                                            My Lady I am dying for you, and yet you do not care:
                                                                            I feel for you in my heart a furnace so hot
                                                                            That to cool it down I would happily hand over my soul.
 
                                                                            You will forever have scandalous infamy
                                                                            If you murder me though I’ve done you no wrong.
                                                                            Ah, what are you trying to say? Is it thus as it should be,
                                                                            Honouring you with blame for your cruelty?
 
                                                                            No, you cannot reproach me that I am
                                                                            Some brazen liar: for my colour and my voice,
                                                                            And my already-grey hairs give you assurance,
 
                                                                            As do my eyes all puffy, and my heart full of anguish.
                                                                            Oh, what more can I do? For no trust
                                                                            Are you pleased to place in the testimony of my loyalty.
 
 
 
Not a great (or even a very good) poem today, I’m afraid. A reminder that even the best can sometimes end up falling back on formulas… From the weakness of the repeat in the opening line, via the string of half-line ‘formulas’ in the middle… In some ways it reminds me of that little game Mozart put together: ‘here’s a string of short (musical) phrases, throw a die and put them together in the random sequence it indicates’!  At last: one of the withdrawn poems that fully deserves its fate 🙂
 
 
 
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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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