this diary is dedicated to all who suffer because of war
image and poem below the fold
Lebanese women wait for a car to take them to Syria at the Beirut-Damascus road near the border point of Masnaa, August 8, 2006.
(Khaled al-Hariri/Reuters)
Ballade [I die of thirst beside the fountain]
by François Villon
translated by Galway Kinnell
I die of thirst beside the fountain
I’m hot as fire, I’m shaking tooth on tooth
In my own country I’m in a distant land
Beside the blaze I’m shivering in flames
Naked as a worm, dressed like a president
I laugh in tears and hope in despair
I cheer up in sad hopelessness
I’m joyful and no pleasure’s anywhere
I’m powerful and lack all force and strength
Warmly welcomed, always turned away.
I’m sure of nothing but what is uncertain
Find nothing obscure but the obvious
Doubt nothing but the certainties
Knowledge to me is mere accident
I keep winning and remain the loser
At dawn I say “I bid you good night”
Lying down I’m afraid of falling
I’m so rich I haven’t a penny
I await an inheritance and am no one’s heir
Warmly welcomed, always turned away.
I never work and yet I labor
To acquire goods I don’t even want
Kind words irritate me most
He who speaks true deceives me worst
A friend is someone who makes me think
A white swan is a black crow
The people who harm me think they help
Lies and truth today I see they’re one
I remember everything, my mind’s a blank
Warmly welcomed, always turned away.
Merciful Prince may it please you to know
I understand much and have no wit or learning
I’m biased against all laws impartially
What’s next to do? Redeem my pawned goods again!
Warmly welcomed, always turned away.
– – –
a personal note: I’m pretty certain that this is the first time I’ve ever recycled a poem. I used a different translation of this one by Villon at least a year ago (no link), paired with an image of several Iraqis watching as their home was being searched, if I recall correctly.
I first came across this poem, in abbreviated form, when I read Hunter S. Thompson’s “Hell’s Angles: The Strange and Terrible Saga of the Outlaw Motorcycle Gangs.” Thompson used a translation of one small part just before the opening chapter, as follows:
In my own country I am in a far-off land
I am strong but have no force or power
I win all yet remain a loser
At break of day I say goodnight
When I lie down I have a great fear
of falling.
– – –
