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by Pierre de Ronsard (1524 - 1585)
Translation © by David Wyatt

Jodelle, l'autre jour, l'enfant de...
Language: French (Français) 
Our translations:  ENG
Jodelle, l'autre jour, l'enfant de Cytherée 
Au combat m'apela, courbant son arc Turquois, 
Et lors comme hardi, je vesti le harnois, 
Pour avoir contre luy ma peau mieus asseurée. 
  
Il me tira premier une fleche acerée 
Droict au coeur, puis une autre, et puis tout à la fois 
Il decocha sur moi les traicts de son carquois, 
Sans qu'il eust d'un seul coup ma poictrine enferrée. 
  
Mais quand il vit son arc de fleches desarmé, 
Tout dépit s'est lui-mesme en fleche transformé, 
Puis se rua dans moi d'une puissance extreme: 

Quand je me vi vaincu, je me désarmé lors: 
Car, las! que m'eust servi de m'armer par dehors, 
Ayant mon ennemi caché dedans moimesme.

About the headline (FAQ)

Text Authorship:

  • by Pierre de Ronsard (1524 - 1585), no title, appears in Continuation des Amours, in Sonnets en vers héroïques, no. 2, first published 1552 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):

    [ None yet in the database ]

Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (David Wyatt) , title unknown, copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2014-08-03
Line count: 14
Word count: 114

Jodelle, the other day Cytherea’s child
Language: English  after the French (Français) 
Jodelle, the other day Cytherea’s child
Called me to battle, bending his Turkish bow;
Then like a rash man I put on my harness,
To keep my skin the safer against him. 
 
He shot at me first a sharp arrow,
Straight at my heart, then another, then he loosed
On me all the darts at once from his quiver,
Without hitting my iron-clad breast with a single shot. 
 
But when he saw his bow had run out of arrows,
All his spite was itself changed into an arrow
Then it shot into me with extreme force.  

When I saw I was beaten, I disarmed myself;
For, alas, what use would it have been for me to armour my outside,
While having my enemy hidden within me.

About the headline (FAQ)

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2014 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.
    Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net

Based on:

  • a text in French (Français) by Pierre de Ronsard (1524 - 1585), no title, appears in Continuation des Amours, in Sonnets en vers héroïques, no. 2, first published 1552
    • Go to the text page.

 

This text was added to the website: 2014-10-29
Line count: 14
Word count: 126

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