Un gascon à mine fière
Écrit de beaux vers pompeux
Dans cette gentilhommière.
Il ressemble comme un frère
A Monluc, illustre preux,
Un gascon à mine fière.
Le jeune poète espère
Un jour revenir fameux
Dans cette gentilhommière.
Gloire! descends sur la terre
Élire au-dessus des dieux
Un gascon à mine fière
Dans cette gentilhommière!
out le long de la Baïse
C'est Saluste du Bartas
Qui sans cesse poétise.
Il songe à sa Cidalise
En marchant à petits pas
Tout le long de la Baïse.
C'est la souveraine exquise
Marguerite aux doux appas
Qui sans cesse poétise.
Reine! quelqu'un vous courtise!
Ne l'aimeriez-vous pas?
Tout le long de la Baïse
Qui sans cesse poétise...
Avec sa belle prestance,
Lèvre rouge, regard noir,
Quel modèle d'élégance.
Il part pour courir sa chance
Loin des tours du vieux manoir
Avec sa belle prestance.
Sur son chapeau se balance
La plume au souffle du soir.
_ Quel modèle d'élégance.
Tous! admirez sa fringance
Venez vite, venez voir
Avec sa belle prestance
Quel modèle d'élégance.
Marguerite de Navarre
Par un jour brûlant d'été
A promener se prépare.
Sa toilette est du plus rare...
Elle aime tant sa beauté
Marguerite de Navarre.
Dans Nérac, quel tintamarre:
La princesse, en vérité,
A promener se prépare.
Page, laisse ta guitare
Puisque en son parc enchanté
Marguerite de Navarre
A promener se prépare.
Qu'est-ce donc sur la garenne?
Le peuple danse gaîement
On accourt lorgner la Reine.
Mais que voit-on? C'est à peine
Comme un mirage charmant
Qu'est ce donc sur la garenne?
Des couples vont par centaine
Enlacés étroitement
_ On accourt lorgner la Reine.
Amour, c'est toi qui le mêne,
Mais chut... elle vient vraiment!
Qu'est-ce donc sur la garenne?
On accourt lorgner la Reine.
L'amour auquel tout invite
Va réunir à la fin
Le poète et Marguerite.
Telle en songe elle palpite
Captive d'un beau destin;
L'amour auquel tout invite...
Avec la ferveur d'un rite
Ils se tiennent par la main
Le poète et Marguerite.
Éros! qui tout facilite
Allume donc dans leur sein
L'amour auquel tout invite
Le poète et Marguerite!
1The cycle chronicles an imagined relationship between Saluste du Bartas, an important Huguenot poet (1544-90) who took up arms for Henri de Navarre, and Marguerite de Valois, queen of Navarre, (1553-1615) for whose arrival in Nerac, Salluste composed some verses in Gascon.
A gascon gentleman of proud countenance
writes fine pompous verse
in this gentleman's home.
He resembles a brother
from Monluc, illustrious brave,
a gascon gentleman of proud countenance.
The young poet hopes
one day to return famous
to this gentleman's home.
Glory! Come down to the earth
to elect a gascon gentleman of proud
countenance above the gods
in this gentleman's home!
All along the Baïse
it is Saluste du Bartas
who versifies continually.
He dreams of his Cidalise
while walking with small steps
all along the Baïse.
It is the exquisite sovereign
gentle charming Marguerite
who versifies continually.
Queen! Someone is courting you!
Would you not love him?
All along the Baïse
who versifies continually...
With his handsome bearing
lips red, eyes black,
what a model of elegance.
He's leaving to try his luck
far from the towers of the old mansion
with his handsome bearing.
On his hat a feather
swings in the evening breeze.
What a model of elegance.
All! admire his dashing
come quickly, come and see
with his handsome bearing
what a model of elegance.
Marguerite de Navarre,
on a scorching summer's day,
is preparing for a walk.
Her attire is of the best...
She is so proud of her beauty
Marguerite de Navarre.
In Nérac, what uproar:
the princess, in truth,
is preparing for a walk.
Page, put aside your guitar
since, in her enchanted park,
Marguerite de Navarre
is preparing for a walk.
What is that on the field?
The people lead a lively dance
all run to glimpse the Queen.
What do we see? It is hardly
like a charming mirage
what is that on the field?
Couples pass in their hundreds
tightly intertwined
_ all run to glimpse the Queen.
Love, it is you who lead them,
but quiet... She really is coming!
What is that on the field?
All run to glimpse the Queen.
Love, to which everything invites,
will at last unite
the poet and Marguerite.
As though in a dream, she throbs,
captive of a beautiful destiny;
the love to which everything invites...
With the fervour of a ritual
they hold each other's hand
the poet and Marguerite.
Eros! Who facilitates everything,
light up in their breast then
the love to which everything invites
the poet and Marguerite!
© translated by Christopher Goldsack
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