Helas mon Dieu y a il en ce monde
Language: French (Français)
Helas mon Dieu y a il en ce monde
mal ou ennui dont on ait cognoissance
Qui soit esgal à ma douleur profonde
Helas mon Dieu si j’avois la puissance
De declarer la peine que je porte
Ce me seroit une grande allegeance.
Helas mon Dieu pitié estes vous morte ?
Qui vous defend que mort ne me contente
Puis qu’autre espoir je n’ay que me confort ?
Helas mon Dieu le temps de mon attente
S’en va passant comme songe ou fumee
Et ma douleur est seule permanente.
Helas mon Dieu amie trop aimee
Voyez vous point à mon dueil inportable
Vostre grand tort et foy peu estimee ?
Helas mon Dieu amitié perdurable
D’ingrat oubly est mal recompensee
J’en ay la peine et l’autre en est coulpable
Helas mon Dieu qui sçavez ma pensee
Soyez content que je m'estrange
Mettant à fin l’euvre mal commencee
Helas mon Dieu si mon Coeur ne la change
Faites au moins que mon œil mieux se garde
De la chercher et que plus ne s’y renge.
Helas mon Dieu si ma mort tant lui tarde
Ordonnez luy qu’apres ma sepulture
Tard repentie elle entende et regarde
Que plus ma foy que sa cruauté dure.
View text with all available footnotes
Confirmed with Mellin de Saint-Gelais, Œuvres poetiques, 1719.
Note (provided by David Wyatt): In line 1, modern French would have « y a-t-il »; apparently the extra ‘t’, for euphony, was invented by Saint-Gelais’s successor as ‘poet laureate’, Ronsard.
Text Authorship:
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Researcher for this page: David Wyatt
This text was added to the website: 2017-06-11
Line count: 28
Word count: 204
Alas, my God, is there in this world
Language: English  after the French (Français)
Alas, my God, is there in this world
Trouble or pain anyone knows
Which equals my deep sadness?
Alas, my God, if I had the power
To speak of the pain which I bear,
It would greatly lessen my load.
Alas, my God, pity are you dead?
Who will keep me from preferring death,
Since I have no other hope to comfort me?
Alas, my God, the time of my waiting
Are passing away like a dream or smoke,
And only my sadness is permanent.
Alas, my God, o beloved too loved,
Do you not see in my unbearable grief
Your great wrong and a loyalty too-little esteemed?
Alas, my God, everlasting love
Is poorly repaid by ungrateful forgetting:
I have the pain, but the other is guilty of it.
Alas, my God, you who know my thoughts,
Be content that I am going away,
Putting an end to this badly-begun deed.
Alas, my God, if my heart cannot change her,
At least make my eyes defend themselves better
From seeking her, and wander there no more.
Alas, my God, if my death comes so slow,
Still ordain that after my burial
She, repenting too late, may hear and see
That my faithfulness lasted longer than her cruelty.
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Text Authorship:
- Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2017 by David Wyatt, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
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Based on:
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This text was added to the website: 2017-06-11
Line count: 28
Word count: 214