Amours 2:45 (madrigal)

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Comme d’un ennemy je veux en toute place
M’eslongner de vos yeux, qui m’ont le cœur deceu,
Petits yeux de Venus, par lesquels j’ay receu
Le coup mortel au sang qui d’outre en outre passe.
 
Je voy, les regardant, Amour qui me menasse,
Aumoins voyant son arc je l’ay bien apperceu :
Mais remparer mon cœur contre luy je n’ay sceu,
Dont le trait fausseroit une forte cuirasse.
 
Or pour ne les voir plus, je veux aller bien loing
Vivre desur le bord d’une mer solitaire :
Encore j’ay grand’peur de ne perdre le soing,
Qui m’est par habitude un mal hereditaire,
 
Tant il a pris en moy de force et de sejour.
« On peut outre la mer un long voyage faire,
« Mais on ne peut changer ny de cœur ny d’amour.
 
 
                                                                            Like an enemy I want at every point
                                                                            To distance myself from your eyes, which have deceived my heart,
                                                                            Those little Venus-eyes through which I received
                                                                            The mortal wound in my blood which runs me through and through.
 
                                                                            I see as I look at them Love menacing me,
                                                                            And I well know his bow having seen it ;
                                                                            But how to fortify my heart against him I have never known,
                                                                            Whose blow can defeat a strong breastplate.
 
                                                                            So, too see them no more, I shall go far off
                                                                            To live on the edge of some lonely sea;
                                                                            Yet still I’m afraid it will be wasted effort,
                                                                            A thing which is for me a common, inherited flaw,
 
                                                                            So strong his hold and for so long over me.
                                                                            “You can make a long voyage beyond the sea
                                                                            But you can’t change your heart or your love.”
 
 
For Marty-Laveaux, this is a madrigal; for Blanchemain, whose version has not yet been amplified with line 12 above, it is a sonnet. I find myself unable to see why Ronsard added that line: it doesn’t seem to be there to add to or amplify the sense of the piece. Even though the change links to further modifications of  the tercet at the end, it is – even in that context – just an extra line, an extra thought. (And, in my view, the more complex thought of the later evrsion isn’t even an improvement.)
 

Well, so much for literary criticism:  here’s Blanchemain’s earlier version complete, despite the small number of differences, to encourage you to read it complete and see what you think about the ‘missing’ line …

 
 
Comme d’un ennemy je veux en toute place
M’eslongner de vos yeux, qui m’ont le cœur deceu,
Petits yeux de Venus, par lesquels j’ay receu
Le coup mortel au sang qui d’outre en outre passe.
 
Je voy toujours dans eux Amour qui me menasse,
Aumoins voyant son arc je l’ay bien apperceu :
Mais remparer mon cœur contre luy je n’ay sceu,
Dont le trait fausseroit une forte cuirasse.
 
Or pour ne les voir plus, je veux aller bien loing
Vivre desur le bord d’une mer solitaire :
Encore j’ay grand’peur de ne perdre le soing,
 
Qui, hoste de mon cœur, y loge nuict et jour.
On peut bien sur la mer un long voyage faire,
Mais on ne peut changer ny de cœur ny d’amour.
 
 
 
                                                                            Like an enemy I want at every point
                                                                            To distance myself from your eyes, which have deceived my heart,
                                                                            Those little Venus-eyes through which I received
                                                                            The mortal wound in my blood which runs me through and through.
 
                                                                            I see always in them Love menacing me,
                                                                            And I well know his bow having seen it ;
                                                                            But how to fortify my heart against him I have never known,
                                                                            Whose blow can defeat a strong breastplate.
 
                                                                            So, too see them no more, I shall go far off
                                                                            To live on the edge of some lonely sea;
                                                                            Yet still I’m afraid it will be wasted effort,
 
                                                                           That guest in my heart stays there night and day;
                                                                            You might well make a long voyage on the sea
                                                                            But you can’t change your heart or your love.”
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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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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