C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
Gustave Nadaud (1820–1893)
Carcassonne
I
I’ve labored all my life in vain;
In all that time of hopes and fears
I’ve failed my dearest wish to gain:
I see full well that here below
Bliss unalloyed there is for none.
My prayer will ne’er fulfillment know:
I never have seen Carcassonne,
I never have seen Carcassonne!
It lies beyond the mountains blue;
And yet to reach it one must still
Five long and weary leagues pursue;
And, to return, as many more!
Ah! had the vintage plenteous grown!
The grape withheld its yellow store.
I shall not look on Carcassonne,
I shall not look on Carcassonne!
Not more nor less than Sunday gay;
In shining robes and garments fair
The people walk upon their way;
One gazes there on castle walls
As grand as those of Babylon,
A bishop and two generals!
I do not know fair Carcassonne,
I do not know fair Carcassonne!
Are ever wayward, weak, and blind;
He tells us in his homily
Ambition ruins all mankind:
Yet could I there two days have spent,
While still the autumn sweetly shone,
Ah me! I might have died content
When I had looked on Carcassonne,
When I had looked on Carcassonne!
In this my prayer if I offend:
One something sees beyond his reach
From childhood to his journey’s end.
My wife, our little boy Aignan,
Have traveled even to Narbonne;
My grandchild has seen Perpignan:
And I have not seen Carcassonne,
And I have not seen Carcassonne!
So crooned one day, close by Limoux,
A peasant, double bent with age.
“Rise up, my friend,” said I: “with you
I’ll go upon this pilgrimage.”
We left next morning his abode,
But (Heaven forgive him) half-way on
The old man died upon the road:
He never gazed on Carcassonne.—
Each mortal has his Carcassonne!