Amours 1.202

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This sonnet follows the previous one, and is a continuation of it: something I don’t think we’ve seen before in this survey of Ronsard’s work.

Le feu jumeau de ma Dame brusloit
Par le rayon de leur flamme divine,
L’amas pleureux d’une obscure bruine,
Qui de leur jour la lumiere celoit.
 
Un bel argent chaudement s’escouloit
Dessus sa jouë, en la gorge yvoirine,
Au beau sejour de sa chaste poitrine,
Où l’Archerot ses fleches émouloit.
 
De neige tiede estoit sa face pleine,
D’or ses cheveux, ses deux sourcis d’ébene,
Ses yeux luisoyent comme un astre fatal :
 
Roses et lis où la douleur contrainte
Formoit l’accent de sa juste complainte,
Feu ses souspirs, ses larmes un crystal.
 
 
 
 
                                                                            The twin fires of my Lady burned
                                                                            With the rays of their divine flame,
                                                                            The tearful store of a hazy drizzle,
                                                                            Which by their brightness hid the light.
 
                                                                            Beautiful silver [tears] hotly ran
                                                                            Over her cheeks, on her ivory throat,
                                                                            On the fair resting-place of her chaste breast,
                                                                            Where the Archer sharpens his arrows.
 
                                                                            Like warm snow was her face,
                                                                            Like gold her hair, like ivory her two brows ;
                                                                            Her eyes glittered like a deadly star ;
 
                                                                            Roses and lilies in which sadness is contained
                                                                            Were the markings of her just complaint ;
                                                                            Her sighs were fire, her tears a stream.
 
 
As well as the uniqueness of structure – 2 sonnets as one poem – we have here one of Ronsard’s more bizarre metaphors! In the opening quatrain, the ‘twin fires … divine flame’ become ‘a hazy drizzle [of rain’, which in turn ‘hid the light’. From bright burning fire to rain and back again, all describing the same thing?!
 
This poem remained unchanged from the earlier to later versions.
 
 
 
 
 
 
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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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