Poème mural de PIERRE DE RONSARD

Poem by PIERRE DE RONSARD, Couture-sur-Loir 1524 - La Riche 1585
Original in FrenchA SON ÂME
Amelette Ronsardelette,
Mignonnelette doucelette,
Treschere hostesse de mon corps,Tu descens là bas foiblelette,
Pasle, maigrelette, seulette,
Dans le froid Royaume des mors:Toutesfois simple, sans remors
De meurtre, poison, ou rancune,
Méprisant faveurs et tresorsTant enviez par la commune.
Passant, j'ay dit, suy ta fortune
Ne trouble mon repos, je dors.
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English from muurgedichten.nlPOEM TO MY SOUL
Poor dear wee soul, sweet
sleekit soul of poor wee Pierre,
sweetest inhabitant of my wee heap
of flesh and bone,
already you've begun to creep,
all frail and pale and wull from out my bed
down to the cold Kingdom of the Dead.You are guileless, guiltless, rancourless,
distrusting favour and reward
thus envied by your petty peers.
I feel you seep
away from me, your carnal nest.
Goodbye, wee love, just keep
right on and don't disturb my rest.
I've gone to Sleep.Translation: Anthony Weir