Chanson (Am 2:59a)

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Voulant, ô ma douce moitié
T’asseurer que mon amitié
Ne se voirra jamais finie :
Je fis pour t’en asseurer mieux,
Un serment juré par mes yeux
Et par mon cœur et par ma vie.
 
Tu jures ce qui n’est à toy,
Ton cœur et tes yeux sont à moy
D’une promesse irrevocable,
Ce me dis-tu : helas au moins
Reçoy mes larmes pour tesmoins
Que ma parolle est veritable.
 
Alors belle tu me baisas
Et doucement des-attizas
Mon feu d’un gracieux visage :
Puis tu fis signe de ton œil,
Que tu recevois bien mon dueil
Et mes larmes pour tesmoignage.
 
 
 
 
                                                                            “Wanting, my sweet other half,
                                                                            To assure you that my love
                                                                            Would never come to an end,
                                                                            I made to better assure you of it
                                                                            A vow sworn on my eyes
                                                                            And my heart and my life.”
 
                                                                            “But you swore by what you don’t have :
                                                                            Your heart and eyes are mine
                                                                            By an irrevocable promise,
                                                                            You told me.” “Alas, then at least
                                                                            Accept my tears as witness
                                                                            That my word is truthful.”
 
                                                                            Then, my fair one, you kissed me
                                                                            And sweetly un-kindled
                                                                            My fire with your gracious face;
                                                                            And then you made me a sign with your eye
                                                                            That you indeed accepted my grief
                                                                            And my tears as a witness. 
 
 
 
A charming little song, beautifully-balanced in those 3 stanzas. Belleau tells us this poem is “taken from” Marullus, but as you can see Ronsard took the idea alone from Marullus: the balance and shape are all his own.

 
(Marullus : Epigram 1.58)
 
Juravi fore me tuum perenne,
per me, per caput hoc, per hos ocellos,
qui te disperiere contuendo,
per quod plurima cor tulit dolenda.
“Haec”, inquis, “mea sunt, tua ista sunto ! “
At certe lacrimae meae, Neaera,
quas juro fore me tuum perenne.
 
                                                                            I have sworn I will be yours forever –
                                                                            By myself, by this head, byu these eyes
                                                                            Which have perished from looking on you,
                                                                            By this heart which has borne so many grievous things.
                                                                            “These things,” you say, “are mine: let them be yours!”
                                                                            These are certainly my tears, Neaera,
                                                                            By which I swear I will be yours forever
 
 Blanchemain’s version of the poem offers a few variants:
 
Voulant, ô ma douce moitié
T’asseurer que mon amitié
Jamais ne se verra faillie,
Je te fis pour t’asseurer mieux,
Un serment juré par mes yeux
Et par mon cœur et par ma vie.
 
Tu jures ce qui n’est à toy,
Ton cœur et tes yeux sont à moy
D’une promesse irrevocable,
Ce me dis-tu : Las ! pour le moins
Reçoy mes larmes pour tesmoins
Que ma parolle est veritable.
 
Alors belle tu me baisas
Et doucement des-attisas
Le feu qui brusle mon courage :
Puis tu fis signe de ton œil,
Que tu recevois bien mon dueil
Et mes larmes pour tesmoignage.
 
 
 
 
                                                                            “Wanting, my sweet other half,
                                                                            To assure you that my love
                                                                            Would never fail,
                                                                            I made to better assure you
                                                                            A vow sworn on my eyes
                                                                            And my heart and my life.”
 
                                                                            “But you swore by what you don’t have :
                                                                            Your heart and eyes are mine
                                                                            By an irrevocable promise,
                                                                            You told me.” “Alas, then at the least
                                                                            Accept my tears as witness
                                                                            That my word is truthful.”
 
                                                                            Then, my fair one, you kissed me
                                                                            And sweetly un-kindled
                                                                            The fire which burns up my courage;
                                                                            And then you made me a sign with your eye
                                                                            That you indeed accepted my grief
                                                                            And my tears as a witness. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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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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