Christine de Pisan: BALLAD

Christine de Pisan

(ca 1364-1430)

 

BALLAD

 

Ah, Death, Death, Death, to thee I make my prayer!

Come, rend me from this dolorous world apart!

Life lures no longer: since my lady fair

Would have me shun her, let my hapless heart

Be very prey to pain and sorrow’s sword.

Gladness I leave and all delight for aye,

And thee alone, O Death, have I implored

Because my lady hath bidden me good-bye.

 

Alas, alas, what doleful news is there!

Never to knight assailed with glaive or dart

Came heavier trouble than the woes I share,

I, who have gathered up in shame and smart

An evil greater than I may record:

Since now my love from all adventure high

Must needs withdraw, and death be my reward

Because my lady hath bidden me good-bye.

 

Ah, lady of mine, can’st thou such hardness dare

And suffer me in anguish to depart

For love of thee? Yet Love must witness bear

Who knoweth no age can show, nor any art,

Servant more faithful both in deed and word

Among all lovers that he might espy:

But my mishaps a worser end afford

Because my lady hath bidden me good-bye.

 

Ah, God of love, why sufferest thou, fair lord,

That thus in sorrow undeserved I die?

All things I leave, of all to be abhorred,

Because my lady hath bidden me good-bye.

 

Christine de Pisan poetry

kempis.nl poetry magazine

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