Christine de Pisan: BALLAD

Christine de Pisan

(ca 1364-1430)

 

BALLAD

 

In all the world is none so happy here

Nor is there any joy to match with mine,

Since she that hath no rival and no peer

Doth mercifully to my suit incline.

Her slave am I till death, for all my pain

In very truth hath met with guerdon meet:

She was my help on whom I called amain,

For she hath granted me her love so sweet.

 

Fair queen, in whom all nobleness is clear,

Thou would’st not have me for thy presence pine:

Nay, bid me cry in every lover’s ear,

“Thirsty was I for Love’s immortal wine!”

Not all my weeping might the gift obtain,

Yet she, enthroned on beauty’s mercy-seat,

Hath pardoned all: too soon did I complain

For she hath granted me her love so sweet.

 

Now to delight returns the torrent drear

That of my mourning was the sorry sign:

Now am I joyous and of merry cheer,

More than aforetime in her grace divine.

Love bade me follow in his chosen train

Where gladness walks beside my lady’s feet,

Nor any loss is mingled with my gain,

For she hath granted me her love so sweet.

 

Princess of love, my sorrow I disdain

Since out of mourning cometh joy complete

By grace of her who is love’s suzerain,

For she hath granted me her love so sweet.

 

Christine de Pisan poetry

fleursdumal.nl magazine

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