Penniless Children

Prenez garde à ce petit être ; Il est bien grand, il contient Dieu. Les enfants sont, avant de naître, Des lumières dans le ciel bleu. Dieu nous les offre en sa largesse ; Ils viennent ; Dieu nous en fait don ; Dans leur rire il met sa sagesse Et dans leur baiser son pardon. Leur douce clarté nous effleure. Hélas, le bonheur est leur droit. S'ils ont faim, le paradis pleure. Et le ciel tremble, s'ils ont froid. La misère de l'innocence Accuse l'homme vicieux. L'homme tient l'ange en sa puissance. Oh ! quel tonnerre au fond des cieux, Quand Dieu, cherchant ces êtres frêles Que dans l'ombre où nous sommeillons Il nous envoie avec des ailes, Les retrouve avec des haillons !

Watch this little one with care, Filled with God, and great in worth; Babes, before they come to birth, Shine above in azure air. God in bounty gives us this: They are sent to us on earth, All his wisdom in their mirth, All his mercy in their kiss. We are warmed in their sweet light; They are cold, and heaven shivers; They are hungry, Eden suffers; Happiness is theirs by right. Men have angels in their power: Every innocent unfed Puts on trial the evildoer. Thunder’s rage shall wake the dead: God, who sent these pretty things To our den of sleep and shadows, Sent them down to us with wings, Finds them wearing rags and tatters! Translation below by Swinburne, a great admirer of Hugo The Poor Children Take heed of this small child of earth; He is great; he hath in him God most high. Children before their fleshly birth Are lights alive in the blue sky. In our light bitter world of wrong They come; God gives us them awhile. His speech is in their stammering tongue, And his forgiveness in their smile. Their sweet light rests upon our eyes. Alas! their right to joy is plain. If they are hungry Paradise Weeps, and, if cold, Heaven thrills with pain. The want that saps their sinless flower Speaks judgment on sin's ministers. Man holds an angel in his power. Ah! deep in Heaven what thunder stirs, When God seeks out these tender things Whom in the shadow where we sleep He sends us clothed about with wings, And finds them ragged babes that weep!