O folz des folz, et les folz mortelz hommes,
Qui vous fiez tant ?s biens de fortune!
En celle terre, ?s pays o? nous sommes,
Y avez vous de chose propre aucune?
Vous n’y avez chose vostre nes- une
Fors les beaulx dons de grace et de nature.
Se Fortune donc, par case d’adventure,
Vous toult les biens que vostre vous tenez,
Tort ne vous fait, ain?ois vous fait droicture,
Car vous n’aviez riens quand vous fustes nez.
Ne laissez plus le dormir ? grans sommes
En vostre lict, par nuit obscure et brune,
Pour acquester richesses a grans sommes,
Ne convoitez choses dessoubs la lune,
Ne de Paris jusques ? Pampelune,
Fors ce qui fault, sans plus, ? creature
Pour recouvrer sa simple nourriture;
Suffise vous d’estre bien renommez,
Et d’emporter bon loz en sepulture:
Car vous n’aviez riens quand vous fustes nez.
Les joyeulx fruicts des arbres, et les pommes,
Au temps que fut toute chose commune,
Le beau miel, les glandes et les gommes
Souffisoient bien ? chascun et chascune.
Et pour ce fut sans noise et sans rancune.
Soyez contens des chaulx et des froidures,
Et me prenez Fortune doulce et seure.
Pour vos pertes, griesve dueil n’en menez,
Fors ? raison, ? point, et ? mesure,
Car vous n’aviez riens quand vous fustes nez.
Se fortune vous fait aucune injure,
C’est de son droit, j? ne l’en reprenez,
Et perdissiez jusques ? la vesture:
Car vous n’aviez riens quand vous fustes nez.
English translation:
Fools, fools are mortal men, fools old or young,
Who Fortune’s fickle favours rest upon.
In the whole earth, the country which you throng,
Possess you ought which you can call your own?
No! of all things you have there is not one.
Fair are the gifts of Nature and of grace;
But if by fortune or unlucky case
All treasures that you have are from you torn,
No wrong you suffer, right still holds its place,
For nothing did you have when you were born.
Your healthful sleep and pleasant dreams prolong
In the dark night, nor quit your bed o’er soon
To moil and toil for wealth with ardour strong;
Nor covet anything beneath the moon
From Paris may be gained to Pampelune;
But only that, nor more that life doth crave,
The simple nourishment which all must have;
Let it suffice you that good deeds adorn,
And that you carry virtue to the grave,
For nothing did you have when you were born.
Glad fruits and apples that on branches hung
In the old time when all things common were-
Fine honey, acorns, gums from forests wrung-
Sufficed for women and for men to share;
And quest of these nor wars nor envy bare.
Be you alike content with cold or heat,
And fortune, whether sweet or sour, greet;
Do not for losses or misfortunes mourn,
Except in reason, time, and measure meet;
For nothing did you have when you were born.
Envoy.
If fortune do you any injury,
It is her right, and neither blame nor scorn,
Though even stript of raiment you should be:
For nothing did you have when you were born.
(Alain Chartier)
More Poetry from Alain Chartier:
Alain Chartier Poems based on Topics: Fate & Destiny, Youth, Time, Man, Sons, Adventure, Place, Countries, Reasoning, English, CarsReaders Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Man Poems, Night Poems, Time Poems, Nature Poems, Youth Poems, Fairness Poems, Place Poems, Fate & Destiny Poems, Sons Poems, Charity Poems, Fool PoemsBased on Keywords: tant, nuit, lune, toute, fut, donc, bon, temps, tort, fors, nes
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