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(From Charles’s Death)
Translated by John Osborne Sargent
THE MOON looks down on lovely lands, in traversing the skies, | |
| But joyously o’er Burgundy she stops to feast her eyes; | |
| The sun, who dallies gallantly with ladies north and south, | |
| Is never tired of kissing Burgundian Mary’s mouth. | |
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| Rich is the Duke of Burgundy in beautiful domains; | 5 |
| Purple clusters gem the hill-tops, and yellow sheaves the plains; | |
| Rich cities and free peoples in the streams reflected shine, | |
| And Bliss is here the reaper, and Plenty trims the vine. | |
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| Earth strives with all her treasures his possessions to environ, | |
| His lands abound in quarries, and in mines of lustrous iron; | 10 |
| For him full many a castle in pride and splendor looms, | |
| And in the golden castle a lovely daughter blooms. | |
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| With a sword in battle tempered he must defend his lands, | |
| That their gardens may not wither in the smoke of hostile brands; | |
| He must protect these treasures, to flourish and increase | 15 |
| Long after their true guardian in the graveyard rests in peace. * * * * * | |
| By Nancy, for the ravens is a carnival in store, | |
| Sits the Duke in bloody judgment, who never will judge more! | |
| There the hero-tree of Burgundy was prostrate, branch and stem, | |
| Flowers of Lorraine and Switzerland,—the same blast withered them! | 20 |
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| Mark the colors and the crests which the hosts opposing show, | |
| Mark the crests and colors mingled where the slaughtered hosts lie low: | |
| Like kings in purple mantles with smoking carnage red,— | |
| Know you who has thus united them? Death reconciles the dead! | |
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| At Nancy a new tombstone in the Cathedral lies, | 25 |
| And o’er it like a statue leans a maid with weeping eyes; | |
| On her countenance is brooding a sorrow dark and deep, | |
| One here may see a daughter for a loving father weep. | |
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| At Nancy in the graveyard a multitude appear, | |
| Led by the ties of sorrow from districts far and near; | 30 |
| And if any tears are shed there, they without deception fall,— | |
| The mourners, as they bury us, adjudge the deeds of all! | |
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