17th century French triolets
This
post is dedicated to translations of French language triolets of the
17th century and especially to the time of the Fronde (1648-1653) when
there was an explosion of interest in the triolet.
The following two triolets are from the anonymously written Triolets
Sur les Maltôtiers
which is said to date to 1648.
1.
All wealth is with the partisans,
All wealth is with the partisans,
In indigence the
people're living;
The French
displeased, the citizens.
All wealth is with
the partisans.
Are these the
healing medicines
We hoped the regent
would be giving?
All Wealth is with
the partisans,
In indigence the
people're living.
Le bien est chez les
partisans,
Et chez le
l'indigence;
Pour François en
sont déplaisants,
Le bien est chez les
partisans.
Est-ce donc là cet
heureux temps
Qu'on espéroit sous
la régence?
Le bien est chez les
partisans,
Et chez le peuple
l'indigence.
2.
The counsellor's neither good nor just,
The counsellor's neither good nor just,
Who wishes Mazarin
continue;
He
does great harm to you, he must,
The counsellor's
neither good nor just.
You're making use of
it, you trust,
In spite of what we
will see in you.
The counsellor's
neither just nor good,
Who wishes Mazarin
continue.
Le conseil n'est
juste ni bon,
Qui veut que Mazarin
s'en aille;
Il fait grand tort à
vôtre nom,
Le conseil n'est
juste ni bon.
Vous vous en servez,
ce dit-on,
Quoiqu'il ne vaille
rien qui vaille.
Le conseil n'est
juste ni bon,
Qui veut que Mazarin
s'en aille.
3.
Yes, yes, let's make some triolets,
Yes, yes, let's make some triolets,
Because they are so
much in fashion,
So let us sing in
foolish ways,
Yes, yes, let's make
some triolets,
They're short, but
they're not ugly lays
I
like them
like the ode
with passion.
Yes, yes, let's make
some triolets,
Because they are so
much in fashion,
Ca, ça, faisons des
Triolets,
Puis qu'aussi bien
c'en est la mode,
Mais faisons-en de
bien folets,
Ca, ça, faison-en
des Triolets;
Il en court qui ne
sont pas laids,
Et que i'estime
autant qu'vne Ode,
Ca, ça, faisons des
triolets,
Puis qu'aussi bien
c'en est la mode.
4.
My Mister Julius Mazarin,
My Mister Julius Mazarin,
This country's not
for you, I'm thinking.
In Turin you'd be
better in,
My Mister Julius
Mazarin.
Go get the Po, the
Rhine do win,
And save yourself
from sinking.
My Mister Julius
Mazarin,
This country's not
for you, I'm thinking.
Monseigneur Iules
Mazarin
La France pour vous
n'est plus bonne,
On vous ayme-mieux à
Thurin
Monseineur Iules
Mazarin,
Gaignez le pau,
gaignez le Rhin,
Sauuez vostre
personne,
Monseigneur Iules
Mazarin
La France pour vous
n'est plus bonne.
5.
Disliking all these lines of verse,
Disliking all these lines of verse,
And badly treating
this good poet,
It's talk of all the
universe.
Disliking all these
lines of verse,
Shows that your mind
is in a hearse.
And you are not
aware you'll blow it,
Disliking all these
lines of verse,
And
badly treating this
good
poet.
Pour auoir mesprisé
les vers,
Et mal traitte
quelque poëte,
On dira par tout
l'Vniuers
Pour auoir mesprisé
les vers,
Que vostre esprit
est de trauers,
Et ne sçauez ce que
vous faites,
Pour auoir mesprisé
les vers,
Et mal traitte
quelque poëte.
The next two triolets come from an eight-page triolet
collection published in 1649 called Triolets
sur le ton royal pour la conférence de Ruel.
6.
The king is in Ruel, they say.
The king is in Ruel, they say.
Is that to where we
now are heading?
He's having there a
boring stay.
The king is in Ruel,
they say:
How cruel Mazarin's
bad way,
If there this
journey's end we're treading,
The king is in Ruel,
they say.
Is that to where we
now are heading?
Le Roy, dict-on, est
a Ruel,
Est-ce qu'à nous il
s'achemine?
Dans vn ennuy
perpetuel,
Le Roy, dict-on, est
à Ruel:
Que Mazarin nous est
cruel
Si là ce voyage il
termine,
Le Roy, dict-on, est
a Ruel,
Est-ce qu'à nous il
s'achemine?
7.
The good days by this have not come,
The good days by this have not come,
The land is filthy,
air is darkening,
And bitter waters
drink like rum.
The good days by
this have not come,
Their feeble chains
restrained by gum,
And wind made evils
we're not harkening;
The good days by
this have not come,
The land is filthy,
air is darkening,
Les beaux iours n'y
font pas venus,
La terre est salle,
l'air est sombre,
Les eaux troubles,
les arbre nus:
Les beaux iours n'y
font pas venus,
De foibles chaisnes
retenus
Les vents y font des
maux sans nombre;
Les beaux iours n'y
font pas venus,
La terre est salle,
l'air est sombre.
The following triolet comes from a 12-page triolet collection published in 1649 called Triolets sur la conférence tenue à Ruel.
8.
Our Deputies, they now are back
Our Deputies, they now are back
A piece of news so
sad they've brought us,
The
people murmur, moods are black
Our Deputies, they
now are back.
Him,
Mazarin remains on track.
Our faith we had
therein has caught us,
Our Deputies, they
now are back.
A piece of news so
sad they've brought us.
Nos Deputés sont de
retour
Auecque vne triste
nouuelle,
Le peuple murmure à
l'entour
Nos Deputés sont de
retour.
Le Mazarin demeure
en Cour,
Ma foy nous en auons
dans l'aisle,
Nos Deputés sont de
retour
Auecque vne triste
nouuelle.
9.
It's time that we should all be glad,
It's time that we should all be glad,
Dear comrads peace,
a peace us is fashioned,
Our hearts can rest,
a peace is had,
It's time that we
should all be glad,
The war, it dies, a
nightmare bad,
Retreating, making
others passioned.
It's time that we
should all be glad,
A peace is
fashioned,
Il est temps de se
réjoüir,
Chers Compagnons la
Paix est faite,
Nos coeurs peuuent
s'épanoüyr,
Il est temps de se
réjouyr,
La Guerre va
s'éuanoüyr,
Et chercher ailleurs
sa retraite;
It est temps de se
réjouyr,
La Paix est faite.
10.
Four years in prison, Marshal, you!
Four years in prison, Marshal, you!
It ought to then
have made you wiser;
You
wish revenge to come
your due.
Four years in
prison, Marshal, you!
With reason do we
tell you true:
"Of cages,
you're a great adviser.
Four years in
prison, Marshal, you,
It ought to then
have made you wiser.”
Maréchal, quatre
ans de prison
Te devroient bien
avoir fait sage;
Tu veux venger dans
ta saison,
Maréchal, quatre
ans de prison.
On te dit avecque
raison:
«Si l'on te peut
remettre en cage,
Maréchal, quatre
ans de prison
Te devroient bien
avoir rendu sage,»
11.
Good God, how sad we find us here,
Good God, how sad we find us here,
That we this city
find afflicted.
Your better never
did appear.
Good God, how sad we
find us here,
That day we'll hold
so precious, dear,
When peace from woe
will be depicted.
Good God, how sad we
find us here,
That we this city
find afflicted.
VRay Dieu qu'il fait
triste en ces lieux,
Que cette ville est
affligée,
Iamais ne la
verra-ton mieux,
Vray Dieu qu'il fait
triste en ces lieux,
Que le iour sera
précieux,
Qu'elle se verra
soulagée,
Vray Dieu qu'il fait
triste en ces lieux.
Que cette ville eft
affligée.
12.
You went and left without a drum,
You went and left without a drum,
And, duke of
Epernon, no trumpet,
You did not stay
among us, bum.
You went and left
without a drum
For you to play your
song so dumb.
The people ready,
you a crumpet,
You went and left
without a drum,
And, duke of
Epernon, no trumpet.
Vous estes sorty
sans tambour,
Duc d'Espernon, &
sans trompette,
Vous n'auez pas fait
long sejour,
Vous estes sorty
sans tambour;
A vous jouer vn
mauuais tout
La populace estoit
bien preste,
Vous estes sorty
sans tambour,
Duc d'Espernon, &
sans trompette.
The following triolet is from Triolets
de Paris, an eight-page collection published in 1649.
13.
No, I'll assure myself of you
No, I'll assure myself of you
Upon your making of
oath taking,
That seeing soon the
king is true,
No, I'll assure
myself of you
Of whether keeping
faith you'll do.
The queen is far too
wise for faking.
No, I'll assure
myself of you
Upon your making of
oath taking.
Non, non, ie
m'asseure pour toy
Suiuant qu'on t'en
fait la promesse,
Que tu verras bien
tost le Roy,
Non, non, ie
m'asseure pour toy
Qu'on te veut
maintenir la foy,
La Reyne est trop
sage Princesse,
Non, non, ie
m'asseure pour toy
Suiuant qu'on t'en
fait la promesse.
The next poem is
from a triolet collection, called Les
Triolets royaux présentés à Leurs Majestés sur leur retour à
Paris, which was published in 1649.
14.
Now finally Louis will return,
Now finally Louis will return,
The
people, let them be enjoying,
Let
them rejoice, cry out in turn
Now
finally Louis will return,
His
city
will he never spurn
His
guards, both Swiss and French, employing;
Now
finally Louis will return,
The
people, let them be enjoying.
Enfin,
Lovys est de retour,
Que
le Peuple se réjouysse,
Qu'il
s'écrie en vn si beau iour,
Enfin
Lovys est de retour
Il
reprend, son digne séjour
Gardé
du François, & du Suisse;
Enfin
Lovys est de retour
Que
le Peuple se réjouysse.
15.
Oh ladies, come back from the field,
Oh ladies, come back from the field,
You'll make out well
within the City
With collars,
skirts, and gloves be sealed,
Oh ladies, come back
from the field,
If you desire a man
unpeeled,
Then Paris has them,
none a kitty.
Oh ladies, come back
from the field,
You'll make out well
within the City
Dames, qui reuenez
des champs,
Fournissez vous bien
à la Ville
De collets, de
iupes, de gands,
Dames, qui reuenez
des champs
Si vous souhaitez
des galands
Paris en a plus de
cent mille
Dames, qui reuenez
des champs
Fournissez vous bien
à la Ville
16.
Now that my prince is here with us,
Now that my prince is here with us,
Farewell to grief;
farewell to sadness.
I do not want to
suffer fuss,
Now that my prince
is here with us.
No trouble! Thank
you, God, I'm flush!
And I'll shout out
now with great gladness.
Now that my prince
is here with us,
Farewell to grief;
farewell to sadness.
Puisque mon cher
prince est ici,
Adieu, chagrin;
adieu, tristesse.
Ie ne veux plus
estre en souci,
Puisque mon cher
prince est ici.
Mes maux sont finis,
Dieu merci!
Et ie reprends mon
allégresse.
Puisque mon cher
prince est ici,
Adieu, chagrin;
adieu, tristesse.
The two following poems come from a seven-page collection published in 1649 called Triolets du Palais-Royal envoyés au palais d'Orléans, avec la réponse du palais d'Orléans au Palais Royal. The collection was conceived as a dialog between two royal palaces, that of the duke d'Orleans, the king's uncle, and that of the king, an idea unique to this collection.
17.
Dear friend, the palace of Orleans,
Dear friend, the palace of Orleans,
Now of my martyrdom
I'll tell you,
Both you and I
nobody cleans,
Dear friend, the
palace of Orleans:
If we are heavy,
sad, it means
That true we are, I,
too, as well you,
Dear friend, the
palace of Orleans,
Now of my martyrdom
I'll tell you,
Cher Amy, Palais
d'Orléans,
Ie te veux conter
mon martyre,
Nous sommes tous
deux mal-contens,
Cher Amy Palais
d'Orléans:
Si on nous voit
tristes & dolens
On n'y peut trouuer
à redire,
Cher Amy
Palaisd'Orléans,
Ie te veux conter
mon martyre.
18.
Chief friend of all my sadnesses,
Chief friend of all my sadnesses,
We have a reason for
complaining.
Much cry for all the
madnesses,
Chief friend of all
my sadnesses.
Alike our woes and
gladnesses,
Together we should
be explaining.
Chief friend of all
my sadnesses,
We have a reason for
complaining.
Cher compagnon de
mes douleurs,
Nous auons sujet de
nous plaindre
Et de faire mille
clameurs,
Cher compagnon de
mes douleurs,
Puis qu'auons les
mesmes malheurs
Ensemble nos
plaintes il faut ioindre,
Cher compagnon de
mes douleurs
Nous auons sujet de
nous plaindre.
19.
Yes, so was France of which we sing
Yes, so was France of which we sing
More powerful than
any nation,
beloved and
treasured of its king
Yes, so was France
of which we sing
My God! Like angels,
French have wings,
They have good
reason for elation.
Yes, so was France
of which we sing
More powerful than
any nation.
La France a esté
autrefois
Plus puissante
qu'aucun Empire
Et chérie de tous
ses Roys
La France a esté
autrefois:
Mon Dieu! qu'en ce
temps, les François
Auoient vn grand
sujet de rire,
La France a esté
autrefois
Plus puissante
qu'aucun Empire.
20.
The counsel's neither just nor good
The counsel's neither just nor good
Which,
regent,
now about you's courting.
Bring harm unto your
name it could,
The counsel's
neither just nor good.
You listen much more
than you should.
Like to your spouse,
Jules is reporting.
The counsel's
neither just nor good
Which,
regent,
now about you's courting.
Le conseil n'est
iuste, ny bon,
Qui fait craindre
vostre régence,
Il fait grand tort a
vostre nom,
Le conseil n'est
iuste ny bon:
Vous vous serués
trop y ce dir on,
Comme vostre espoux,
d'Eminence
Le conseil n'est
iuste ny bon
Qui faict craindre
vostre régence.
21.
What! Paris is invested now!
What! Paris is invested now!
O God! Whoever could
believe it!
The
king got out, we can't allow!
What! Paris is
invested now!
I have to take my
sides somehow
To
save myself as I conceive
it.
What! Paris is
invested now!
O God! Whoever could
believe it!
QUOY donc! Paris est
investy?
O cieux! qui l’eust
jamais pu croire!
Le roy mesmes en est
sorty.
Quoy donc! Paris est
investy?
Il me faut donc
prendre party
Pour sauver mes
biens et ma gloire.
Quoy donc! Paris est
investy?
O cieux! qui l’eust
jamais pu croire!
22.
Yes, God will side with us, I'm sure,
Yes, God will side with us, I'm sure,
Because our justice
is a treasure;
We
shall be undismayed, stay
pure.
Yes, God will side
with us, I'm sure,
Our Parliament will
be a lure.
They work with our
police with pleasure.
Yes, God will side
with us, I'm sure,
Because our justice
is a treasure.
Dieu sera de nostre
costé,
Puis que nous avons
la justice;
Qu’on ne soit pas
epouvanté,
Dieu sera de nostre
costé:
Le Parlement nous
est resté
Pour travailler à
la police;
Dieu sera de nostre
costé,
Puis que nous avons
la justice.
23.
For writing your good triolets,
For writing your good triolets,
It means you notice
these three causes:
For one, the mood
has charming ways
For writing your
good triolets;
For two, it has a
role it plays,
For three, it has
its perfect pauses,
For writing your
good triolets,
It means you notice
these three causes.
Pour construire vn
bon Triolet
Il faut obseruer ces
trois choses:
Scauoir, que l'air
en soit folet
Pour construire vn
bon Triolet;
Qu'il r'entre bien
dans le rolet,
Et qu'il tombe au
vray lieu des pauses,
Pour construire vn
bon Triolet
Il faut obseruer ces
trois choses.
24.
Yes, in Japan I'd like to be.
Yes, in Japan I'd like to be.
I hear this fuss. It
makes me scowling.
I open thought, the
tongue a key.
Yes, in Japan I'd
like to be.
My host in
underclothes I see,
His wife is in her
long robes howling,
Yes, in Japan I'd
like to be
I hear this fuss. It
makes me scowling.
Ouy je voudrais
estre au Iapon
Quand j'entens tout
ce tintamarre:
Ce n'est pas parler
en fripon
Ouy je voudrais
estre au Iapon;
Mon Hoste en
renasque en Iupon,
Et sa Femme en hurle
en Simarre,
Ouy je voudrais
estre au Iapon
Quand j'entens tout
ce tintamarre.
25.
To arms, bourgeois, who know not why,
To arms, bourgeois, who know not why,
A hundred times
you'll wish your dying
Of cold, as frostbit
people die.
To arms, bourgeois,
who know not why,
Mars
comes in March, his month, not
shy,
With force of arms,
your death he's buying.
To arms, bourgeois,
who know not why,
A hundred times
you'll wish your dying.
Aux Armes, o pauures
Bourgeois,
On trouue cent
sujets de larmes:
On meurt de froid au
bout des doigts
Aux Armes, o pauures
Bourgeois;
Et Mars mesme en son
propre Mois
Met par force la
main aux Armes,
Aux Armes, o pauures
Bourgeois!
On trouue cent
sujets de larmes
26.
Our laurel is our olive tree,
Our laurel is our olive tree,
And we are over war
the winners.
Farewell
you crazy fools, be free.
Our laurel is our
olive tree,
Goodbye gunsmith,
and take your fee.
We sing to wine, we
happy sinners,
Our laurel is our
olive tree,
And we are over war
the winners.
Nostre Oliue est
nostre Laurier,
La Paix triomphe de
la Guerre;
Adieu le fol
Auanturier,
Nostre Oliue est
nostre Laurier;
Adieu le bruit de
l'Armurier
Puis que l'on chante
au son du Verre,
Nostre Oliue est
nostre Laurier,
La Paix triomphe de
la Guerre.
27.
Due to capricious destiny
We find ourselves
where we are standing,
Where everyone is
sad to be,
Due to capricious
destiny.
And brutal envy do
we see
From those who are
our men demanding.
Due to capricious
destiny,
We find ourselves
where we are standing,
Par vn destin
Capricieux
Dans l'Estat present
où nous sommes,
Vn chacun est
triste-ioyeaux
Par vn destin
Capricieux,
Et ils n'est que des
Envieux
Qui veulent la perte
des hommes.
Par vn destin
Capricieux
Dans l'Estat present
où nous sommes.
The following triolet is from a seven-page
collection printed in 1650 called Nouveaux
triolets frondeurs, ou Les triomphes de la Fronde.
Our triolets do
guarantee
Our protest is
appreciated.
Like flying bullets
hits, we see
Our trriolets do
guarantee
Like and held guns
shot capably.
They are, like
beauty, highly rated.
Our trriolets do
give us guarantee
Our protest is
appreciated,
Il faut que dans nos
Triolets
Noftre Fronde soit
bien prisée,
Ses coups vallent
bien des boulets,
Il faut que dans nos
Triolets,
Aussi bien que des
pistolets
Elle a vne belle
visée,
Il faut que dans nos
Triolets
Noftre Fronde soit
bien prisée.
To present time the
Fronde persists,
Won honor and has
won a battle,
And as an ornament
exists.
To
present time the Fronde persists,
And, clothing given,
it resists.
It
glory gives with thunderous
rattle.
To
present time the Fronde persists,
Won honor and has
won a battle.
Puis que la Fronde à
present
A eu l'honneur &
la victoire,
Elle nous seruira
d'ornement
Puisque la fronde à
présent,
Au chapeau &
habillement
Vn chacun prend part
à sa glòire;
Puisque la fronde à
présent
A eu l'honneur &
la victoire.
Insatiable
they are, the
Dutch,
That ravage other's
land and water.
They'll burn their
fingers soon and much.
Insatiable
they are, the
Dutch,
They'll pay their
dues to him for such.
To him, yes, all to
him will totter.
Insatiable
they are, the
Dutch,
That ravage other's
land and water.
Insatiables
Hollandois,
Qui rauagez la
Terre, & l'Onde;
Vous aurez bien-tost
sur les dois,
Insatiables
Hollandois,
Songez à bien payer
ses droicts;
A ce Grand
conquérant du monde,
Insatiables
Hollandois,
Qui rauagez la
Terre, & l'Onde:
You fickle, cruel,
Englishmen,
You, who republicans
would make us,
In vain, you do such
such feats, your men.
You fickle, cruel,
Englishmen,
The duke of Valois
find fear in.
You'll one day lose
to him and take us.
You fickle, cruel,
Englishmen,
You, who republicans
would make us.
Inconstant & cruel Anglois,
Qui
te veux mettre en république:
En vain tu fais de
grands Exploits;
Inconstant &
cruel Anglois;
Crains ce nouueau
Duc de Valois:
Tu seras à luy sans
réplique,
Inconstant &
cruel Anglois,
Qui te veux mettre
en république.
The muses fashion
triolets
And people them
esteem worth sharing.
We must accomplish
all that way;
The muses fashion
triolets.
They
are well made, this
I can say;
And goodly rhymed,
they're goodly faring.
The muses fashion
triolets
And people them
esteem worth sharing,
Muses faisons des
Triolets
Puisque l'on en fait
de l'estime,
Il faut accomplir
nos souhaits
Muses faisons des
Triolets,
I'en ay veu qui
estoient bien faits
Et qui estoient de
bonne rime,
Muses faisons des
Triolets
Puisque l'on en fait
de l'estime.
33.
Long live our Louis,
Bourbons, too.
Long live his
mother, Anne, among us,
Our Philip and our
Gaston, too.
Long live our Louis,
Bourbons, too.
Long live our
Beaufort's name so true,
Long live Vendome,
of whom we've sung us,
Long live our Louis,
Bourbons, too.
Long live his
mother, Anne, among us.
Viue LOVYS, viue
Bourbon,
Viue
Anne d'Autriche sa Mère,
Viue Philippe, viue
Gaston,
Viue LOVYS, viue
Bourbon,
Viue BÉAVFORT, viue
son nom,
Viue Vendosme ce bon
père,
Viue LOVYS, viue
Bourbon,
Viue
Anne d'Autriche sa Mère.
It was entire
submission there,
Of Normandy, all of
that region.
Humiliated did they
fare;
It was entire
submission there,
To Louis, king, they
did with flair!
Their great
affection then was legion.
It was entire
submission there,
Of Normandy, all of
the region.
D'une
entière
soubmision
Toute la Prouince
Normande
Par vne humiliation,
D'vne
entière
soubmission;
A nostre Louys de
Bourbon,
S'est rendue
d'affection grande,
D'vne entière
soubmission.
Toute la Prouince
Normande.
My citizens of
Paris, now
Who have to chase
your woes and sadness,
No longer should you
sleep allow.
My citizens of
Paris, now,
Let's make long live
the king our vow.
In tones of
happiness, show gladness,
My citizens of
Paris, now
Who have to chase
your woes and sadness.
Maintenant Bourgeois
de Paris
Il vous faut chasser
la tristesse,
Et ne soyez plus
endormis,
Maintenant Bourgeois
de Paris
Criez viue le Roy
Louys,
D'vn tont ioyeux &
d'allegresse,
Maintenant Bourgeois
de Paris
Il vous faut chasser
la tristesse.
You sodomites must
Paris leave,
Since now his
Eminence is farting
If you your capture
don't conceive,
You sodomites must
Paris leave,
His arse should it
your scorn receive?
So
hear the throat that trumpets parting!
You sodomites must
Paris leave,
Since now his
Eminence farting.
BOVGRES Il faut
quiter Paris,
Puis que son
Eminence pette,
Si vous ne voulez
estre pris,
Bougres il faut
quitter Paris,
Son cul vous eft-il
à mépris?
Oyez Iossier qui
vous trompette
Bougres il faut
quitter Paris,
Puisque son Eminence
pette.
Butt-fucking
bastard, bad-ass bitch,
Cock-sucking cunt
and giant asshole,
Gay trash of
gross-out groins go twitch,
Butt-fucking
bastard, bad-ass bitch,
Vain, vice-vexed,
vicious, swing the switch.
Through you his
dildo ought to pass whole;
Butt-fucking
bastard, bad-ass bitch,
Cock-suking cunt and
giant asshole.
Bougre, bouffon,
baudet, badin,
Coquin, croquant,
croqueur d'andoüilles,
Gavache, glorieux
gredin,
Bougre, bouffon ,
baudet, badin,
Vicdaze, vray
villebrequin
De ceux au cul de
qui tu foüilles
Bougre, bouffon,
baudet, badin,
Coquin, croquant,
croqueur d'andouilles.
Frondeurs, your names
will be engraved
On gold, for sake of
our salavation,
Because good men
were not enslaved,
Frondeurs, your
names will be engraved.
For you, the tombs
that shall be saved,
Built of a precious
stone foundation.
Frondeurs, your
names will be engraved
On gold, for sake of
our salvation.
Frondeurs vos noms
seront grauez
Sur de l'or, non sur
de la cire,
Car braues gens
estes trouuez,
Frondeurs vos noms
seront grauez,
Et vos tombeaux
mesmes esleuez
Sur pilliers de
Iaspe & Porphire,
Frondeurs vos noms
seront grauez
Sur de l'or, non sur
de la cire.
You, Mazarin, are
the instrument,
Of all these
troubles France is facing,
The trouble's you,
to us is sent;
You, Mazarin, are
the instrument.
Desires of ours will
not be bent;
We will you out of
here be chasing.
You, Mazarin, are
the instrument,
Of all these
troubles France is facing,
Mazarin tu és
l'instrument,
De tous ses troubles
de la France,
Tu cause tout son
remuëment
Mazarin tu és
l'instrument,
Mieux voudrois t'on
éloignement
Que non pas icy ta
présence
Mazarin tu és
l'instrument,
De tous les troubles
de la France.
In exile we shall
see him soon,
In just a short
time, Mazarin leaving.
We all shall see it
as a boon;
In exile we shall
see him soon,
And joy shall well
within a tune.
The troubles of the
past caused grieving.
In exile we shall
see him soon,
In just a short
time, Mazarin leaving.
Bien-tost nous
verrons Exillé,
Mazarin dans
quelques Iournées,
Dont chacun sera
consolé,
Bien-tost nous
verrons Exillé,
De joye le coeur
sera comblé
Apres tant de peines
passées,
Bien-tost nous
verrons Exillé
Mazarin dans
quelques iournées.
Don't tell me
Mazarin does return!
Go to the devil I am
wishing.
He's back with us
and we shall burn.
Don't tell me
Mazarin does return!
He
is maintained, I do discern,
In France. It's
there for gold he's fishing.
Don't tell me
Mazarin does return!
Go to the devil I am
wishing.
Quoy, Mazarin est
reuenu!
Au diable soit sa
contenance,
Il est de bien prés
retenu,
Quoy Mazarin est
reuenu!
Il croyoit estre
maintenu
Dans le noble pays
de France:
Quoy Mazarin est
reuenu,
Au diable soit sa
contenance.
Now Mazarin is
astonished much,
He's seeing that his
world is cracking.
But
he'll return; he wishes
such.
Now Mazarin is
astonished much,
Confined he is,
knows not the hutch,
Where men of ours
are now him tracking.
Now Mazarin is
astonished much,
He's seeing that his
world is cracking.
Mazarin est bien
estonné
Voyant que son monde
le quitte
Il voudroit bien
s'en retourné,
Mazarin est bien
estonné
Il ne sçait ou se
cantonné,
Tant
il a peur de la poursuitte
Mazarin est bien
estonné
Voyant que son monde
le quitte.
The following triolet has been attributed to Guillaume
Bautru, comte de Serrant, (1588-1665).
43.
The next poem has been attributed to Louis de Bourbon,
Prince of Condé, an active participant in the uprising of the Fronde.
44.
The next two triolets have been attributed to François Le
Coigneux, seigneur de Bachaumont (1624-1702).
45.
46.
The next two triolets (1650 and 1649, respectively) were written by Claude de Chouvigny, baron de Blot l'Eglise (1605-1655), a poet who specialized in subjecting famous people to ridicule.
47.
48.
The following two triolets (both 1649) are by Jacques
Carpentier de Marigny (1615 - ca.
1673), famous for a book published in 1658 called Le
Traité politique ou Tuer un tyran n'est pas un crime
(The Political Treatise or to Kill a Tyrant is not a Crime).
49.
50.
The first of the following two triolets is written by François-Gaspard de Montmarin de
Saint-Hérent, marquis de Saint-Hérent. The second is a response written by the baron Blot l'Eglise.
51.
Concerning a parish priest
52.
The following triolet is by Paul Scarron (1610 to 1660), the first husband of Louis XIV's second wife, Françoise
d'Aubigné, Marquise de Maintenon.
53.
The following is an anonymously written 17th century triolet quoted in full by Michel Mourges, an influential
17th century French rhetorician. It appears in many anthologies of succeeding centuries.
54.
Lord Maure will to
the peace agree,
Intends to sign it
any day now.
If royal favor for
him be,
Lord Maure will to
the peace agree,
Suppressing
triolets, we see.
His leather vest
with him will stay now.
Lord Maure will to
the peace agree,
Intends to sign it
any day now.
Le Maure consent à
la paix
Et la va signer tout
à l'heure
Pourvu qu'il ait de
bons brevets
Le Maure consent à
la paix.
Qu'on supprime les
triolets,
Et que son buffle
lui demeure.
Le Maure consent à
la paix
Et la va signer tout
à l'heure
A tiger, he's for
blood, athirst,
This lord de Maure
is brave, impressive.
When fighting
seeking ranking first,
A tiger, he's for
blood, athirst.
His record fighting
then is worst,
because Condé's of
life possessive.
A tiger, he's for
blood, athirst,
This lord de Maure
is brave, impressive.
C'est un tigre
affamé de sang
Que ce brave comte
de Maure
Quand il combat au
premier rang,
C'est un tigre
affamé de sang.
Mais il n'y combat
pas souvent,
C'est pourquoi Condé
vit encore.
C'est un tigre
affamé de sang
Que ce brave comte
de Maure
“I
do believe in battle fight”,
The count de Maure
said, unconceited.
“It's
no time now for idle might;
I do believe in
battle fight.
They must be cut to
pieces right.
As Turks and Moors
they will be treated.
I do believe in
battle fight,
The count de Maure
said, unconceited.
Je suis d'avis de
batailler,
Dit le brave comte
de Maure;
Il n'est plus saison
de railler,
Je suis d'avis de
batailler.
Il les faut en
pièces tailler,
Et les traiter de
Turc à More.
Je suis d'avis de
batailler
Dit le brave comte
de Maure.
A leather vest,
black velvet sleeves
The great lord Maure
in splendor's wearing.
This warrior, nice
to see, believes
In leather vests,
black velvet sleeves.
Return Condé, your
sword, it cleaves,
And will you it in
hand be bearing.
A leather vest,
black velvet sleeves
The great lord Maure
in splendor's wearing.
Buffle à manches de
velours noir,
Porte le grand comte
de Maure
Sur ce guerrier
qu'il fait beau voir
Buffle à manches de
velours noir!
Condé, rentre dans
ton devoir,
Si tu ne veux qu'il
te dévore
Buffle à manches de
velours noir,
Porte le grand comte
de Maure.
The next two triolets (1650 and 1649, respectively) were written by Claude de Chouvigny, baron de Blot l'Eglise (1605-1655), a poet who specialized in subjecting famous people to ridicule.
I toast the health
of all our friends
And that the others
meet the devil.
So don't you like
the wine fate sends?
I toast the health
of all our friends
Your time's with me
the time that wends,
So drink, drink
more. I'm on the level.
I toast the health
of all our friends
And that the others
meet the devil.
A la santé de nos
amis!
Que le Diable
emporte les autres.
N'estes-vous pas de
cet avis?
A la santé de nos
amis!
Ma foy, vous me
l'avez promis;
Buvez aux miens, je
bois aux vostres.
A la santé de nos
amis!
Que le Diable
emporte les autres!
He will become a
potentate,
through actions
people will remember.
This duke there is
so much of late;
He will become a
potentate,
If kings should
fall, at any rate,
Just like a table we
dismember.
He will become a
potentate,
through actions
people will remember.
Il deviendra grand
potentat
Par ses actions
mémorables,
Ce Duc dont on fait
tant d'estat!
Il deviendra grand
potentat,
S'il scait renverser
nostre
Estât Comme il
scait renverser la table.
Il deviendra grand
potentat
Par ses actions
mémorables.
49.
The valiant, royal,
prince Condé
To us refuses to
grant mercy,
Blue blood which us
should show the way.
The valiant, royal,
prince Condé,
Because
he gets his help they
say
From common people
and they curse me.
The valiant, royal,
prince Condé
For us refuses to
grant mercy.
Le vaillant prince
de Condé
Nous refuse
miséricorde.
Vertu bleu qu'il
sera frondé,
Le vaillant prince
de Condé!
Car on dit qu'il est
secondé
Par des gens de sac
et de corde.
Le vaillant prince
de Condé
Nous refuse
miséricorde.
Good God! the good
times that forth went
In Paris during
famine's coming!
For each got kissed
for kisses spent.
Good God! the good
times that forth went.
The greatest beauty
did content
With flour herself
and then go humming.
Good God! the good
times that forth went
In Paris during
famine's coming!
Bon Dieu! le bon
tems que c'estoit
A Paris, durant la
famine!
Tout le monde
s'entre-baisoit
Bon Dieu le bon tems
que c'estoit!
La plus belle se
contentoit
D'un simple boisseau
de farine.
Bon Dieu! le bon
tems que c'estoit
A Paris, durant la
famine!
Concerning a parish priest
Now can you see this
parish priest?
No hypocrite his
face suggesting.
But, he's a
reprobate, a beast.
Now can you see this
parish priest?
A drunken sot at
every feast,
And such a fairy, no
one besting.
Now can you see this
parish priest?
No hypocrite his
face suggesting
Sur un curé.
Voyez-vous ce brave
curé?
Il n'a point la mine
hypocrite,
C'est un fidelle
réprouvé.
Voyez-vous ce brave
curé?
Il est un ivrogne
avéré,
Incrédule et grand
sodomite.
Voyez-vous ce brave
curé?
Il n'a point de mine
hypocrite.
52.
Response
of Blot
A
most exquisite priest was hired,
I do
not know a priest the wiser.
I am
a servant you've acquired,
A
most exquisite priest was hired!
For
what he says in mud is mired
That
I must say, your analyser,
“A
most exquisite priest was hired,
I do
not know a priest the wiser”.
Réponse de Blot.
Tu es un curé fort
exquis,
Je n'en connois
point de plus sage;
Je suis ton
serviteur acquis,
Tu es un curé fort
exquis.
Mais pour ce que dit
le Marquis,
J'en crois encore
davantage;
Tu es un curé fort
exquis,
Je n'en connois
point de plus sage.
Triolet against the
Frondeurs
We must be
henceforth making ropes,
We must cry out for
understanding.
Frondeurs, you're
nothing more than dopes!
We must be
henceforth making ropes
with which you
should go hang your hopes;
Your slings are
cordage your demanding.
We must be
henceforth making ropes,
We must cry out for
understanding.
Triolet contre Les
Frondeurs
Il faut desormais
filer doux,
Il
faut crier miséricorde.
Frondeurs, vous
n'etes que des foux
Il faut desormais
filer doux.
C'est mauvais
présage pour vous,
Qu'une fronde n'est
qu'une corde.
Il faut desormais
filer doux,
Il
faut crier miséricorde.
What judgment show
you in your place,
Young soldier, and
what well-thought thunder!
In fire do you
seldom into pace!
What judgment show
you in your place;
Though how we note
your eager face
As you are running
first for plunder.
What judgment show
you in your place,
Young soldier, and
what well-thought thunder!
Que-vous montrez de
jugement,
Jeune soldat, &
de courage!
Vous allez au ſeu
rarement;
Que vous montrez de
jugement!
Mais on vous voit
avidement
Courir des premiers
au pillage.
Que-vous montrez de
jugement,
Jeune soldat, &
de courage!
The following triolet is by Jacques de Ranchin. It was written during the first year or so of the Fronde and is the most famous triolet ever written, being known as the king of triolets.
The day that came the first in May,
No happier day my life has seen since.
The plans I made were good that day,
The day that came the first in May.
My eyes with love about you lay,
And, Sylvie, you became my queen thence,
The day that came the first in May.
No happier day my life has seen since!
Le premier jour du mois de Mai
Fut le plus heureux de ma vie.
Le beau dessein que je formai!
Le premier jour du mois de Mai.
Je vous vis, & je vous aimai.
Et ce dessin vous plut, Sylvie.
Le premier jour du mois de Mai
Fut le plus heureux de ma vie.
Yes, Pindar was a
man of wit.
It takes no other
testimony;
there's depth and
everything's a hit.
Yes, Pindar was a
man of wit;
All knowledge, him,
his brain could fit.
His sales do prove
he was no phoney.
Yes, Pindar was a
man of wit,
It takes no other
testimony?
Pindare étoit homme
d'esprit.
En faut-il d'autres
témoignages
Profond dans tout ce
qu'il écrit;
Pindare étoit homme
d'esprit.
A qui jamais rien
n'y comprit
Il fut bien vendre
ses ouvrages.
Pindare étoit homme
d'esprit,
En faut-il d'autres
témoignages?
If I don't win with
you my case
You cannot hope to
win yours surely.
You'll
not succeed in such
a race,
If I don't win with
you my case.
I'll give free
access to my face,
I ask you give me
yours as purely.
If I don't win with
you my case,
You
cannot hope to win yours surely.
Si je ne gagne mon
procès
Vous ne gagnerez pas
le vôtre;
Vous n'aurez pas un
bon succès
Si je ne gagne mon
procès.
Vous avez chez moi
libre accès,
J'en demande chez
vous un autre.
Si je ne gagne mon
procès,
Vous ne gagnerez pas
le vôtre.
The end of March, as
I believe,
There came the last
day I call living.
Six forty five Diane
did leave,
The end of March, as
I believe,
A house which
Caesars do conceive,
Went to the land of
her birth-giving.
The
end of March, as I believe,
It was the last day
I call living.
Le dernier jour du
mois de mars
Fut le dernier jour
de ma vie.
Diane, à six heures
trois quarts,
Le dernier jour du
mois de mars,
Quitta le séjour
des Césars,
Pour retourner en sa
patrie.
Le dernier jour du
mois de mars
Fut le dernier jour
de ma vie.
The following triolet has been attributed to Étienne Pavillon (1632 – 10 January 1705), a French lawyer and poet
59.
The honor constant to appear
Is never worth its pain in being.
Ought one to hold onto it dear
The honor constant to appear?
Near to the one that charms, I fear,
Enough's if people are so seeing.
The honor constant to appear
Is never worth its pain in being.
L'honneur de passer pour constant
Ne vaut pas la peine de l'être.
Doit - on briguer sincèrement
L'honneur de passer pour constant?
Près de l'objet le plus charment,
C'est bien assez de le paroître.
L'honneur de passer pour constant
Ne vaut pas la peine de l'être.
No comments:
Post a Comment