LA MÉLANCOLIE DE PIERROTPIERROT'S MELANCHOLIA
Jules Laforguetrans. Paul Staniforth
Le premier jour, je bois leurs yeux ennuyés...
Je baiserais leurs pieds,
À mort. Ah! qu'elles daignent
Prendre mon coeur qui saigne!
Puis, on cause... - et ça devient de la Pitié
Et enfin je leur offre mon amitié.

C’est de pitié, que je m'offre en frère, en guide;
Elles, me croient timide,
Et clignent d'un oeil doux:
"Un mot, je suis a vous!"
(Je te crois) Alors, moi, d’étaler les rides
De ce coeur, et de sourire dans le vide...

Et soudain j'abandonne la garnison,
Feignant de trahisons!
(Je l’ai échappé belle!)
Au moins, m'écrira-t-elle?
Point. Et je la pleure toute la saison...
- Ah! j'en ai assez de ces combinaisons!

Qui m'apprivoisera le coeur! belle cure...
Suis si vrai de nature,
Aie la douceur des soeurs!
Oh viens! suis pas noceur,
Serait-ce donc une si grosse aventure
Sous le soleil? dans toute cette verdure...
Day one, I drink their bored eyes drip by drip ...
my tongue across their feet would trip
till death. Would they'd deign to concede
to take my heart made thus to bleed!
Then, we 'discuss' - and Pity takes a grip
and I end up offering them my friendship.

From pity I'll be their brotherly guide;
women think I'm such a shy boy,
they gently wink without a pause:
'Oh, just say the word and I'm yours!'
(No doubt.) Then there I am, having deployed
this wrinkled heart, sat smiling at the void ...

Then, suddenly, I desert the fortress
by mocking up some faithlessness
(and I escape thus just in time!) -
at least, she will drop me a line?
No. And I cry all season (more or less) -
bah, I am tired of all this contrived mess!

Oh who will tame my heart? (What a to-do ...)
Was born this way, so very true ...
Be gentle with me as beguines,
for look! I am no libertine -
Would it be such an awful derringdo
under the sun? In all this greenery, too ...

Click here 1 for another translation of this poem.

Trans. Copyright © Heirs of Paul Staniforth 2002 - publ. Modern Poetry in Translation.


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