Epitaph

Épitaphe

Paul Scarron (1610-60)

Épitaphe
Celui qui ci maintenant dort Fit plus de pitié que d’envie, Et souffrit mille fois la mort Avant que de perdre la vie. Passant, ne fais ici de bruit, Prends garde qu’aucun ne l’éveille; Car voici la première nuit Que le pauvre Scarron sommeille.
Epitaph
A sleepyhead here is laid: He was much less envied than pitied, who a thousand times over was dead, before of his life he was quitted. So don't make a sound as you pass: don't waken him, don't molest: tonight's the first time, alas, that Scarron has had a good rest.

Translation: Copyright © Timothy Adès

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Song

Chanson

Pierre Corneille (1606-84)

Chanson
Si je perds bien des maîtresses, J’en fais encor plus souvent, Et mes voeux et mes promesses Ne sont que feintes caresses, Et mes voeux et mes promesses Ne sont jamais que du vent. Quand je vois un beau visage, Soudain je me fais de feu, Mais longtemps lui faire hommage, Ce n’est pas bien mon usage, Mais longtemps lui faire hommage, Ce n’est pas bien là mon jeu. J’entre bien en complaisance Tant que dure une heure ou deux, Mais en perdant sa présence Adieu toute souvenance, Mais en perdant sa présence Adieu soudain tous mes feux. Plus inconstant que la lune Je ne veux jamais d’arrêt; La blonde comme la brune En moins de rien m’importune, La blonde comme la brune En moins de rien me déplaît. Si je feins un peu de braise, Alors que l’humeur m’en prend, Qu’on me chasse ou qu’on me baise, Qu’on soit facile ou mauvaise, Qu’on me chasse ou qu’on me baise, Tout m’est fort indifférent. Mon usage est si commode, On le trouve si charmant, Que qui ne suit ma méthode N’est pas bien homme à la mode, Que qui ne suit ma méthode Passe pour un Allemand.
Song
I lose many mistresses, Gain more, to spare. My vows and my promises, Kisses, just ruses: My vows and my promises, Wind, light as air. I see a sweet visage, I’m quickly aflame But drawing out homage Just isn’t my usage, But drawing out homage Just isn’t my game. I’ll join in complaisance For one or two hours, But losing her presence It’s bye-bye remembrance, But losing her presence, Farewell all my fires. I’m a moon of no constance, I don’t stop or stall, Brunettance or blondance I feel no repugnance, Brunettance or blondance, Reluctance, at all. I act a bit steamy When feeling inclined: They shoo me or woo me, Turn dreadful or dreamy, They shoo me or woo me, I simply don’t mind. So neat is my custom They all find it charming. Rejecting my system You’ve no savoir faire, man, Rejecting my system You’d pass for a German.

Translation: Copyright © Timothy Adès

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A una Nariz

To A Nose

Francisco de Quevedo (1580-1645)

To A Nose
Érase un hombre a una nariz pegado, érase una nariz superlativa, érase una nariz sayón y escriba, érase un peje espada muy barbado, Era un reloj de sol mal encarado, érase una alquitara pensativa, érase un elefante boca arriba, era Ovidio Nasón más narizado, Érase un espolón de una galera, érase una pirámide de Egito: los doce tribus de narices era, Érase un naricísimo infinito, muchísimo nariz, nariz tan fiera, que en la cara de Anás fuera delito.
A una Nariz
There was a nose, which had a man appended. It was a nose superb, superlative, it was a nose, a hangman and a scribe, it was a swordfish, sharp and hairy-ended. It was a solar clock in discomposure, a pronged alembic, querulous and nervy, it was an elephant turned topsy-turvy, it was Ovidius Naso, only nosier, it was the Pyramid of Oxyrhynchus, it was a figurehead for seaborne warriors, it was a whole twelve tribes of errant honkers, it was infinity of nasal noseness, a nose too total and a nose too glorious, a crime that would besmirch the face of Annas.

Translation: Copyright © Timothy Adès

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Sunny Sun, Moony Moon

SOL SOLECITO, LUNA LUNERA

Anon

SOL SOLECITO, LUNA LUNERA
Sol, solecito, caliéntame un poquito, por hoy por mañana, por toda la semana, luna lunera, cascabelera, cinco pollitos y una ternera. Luna, lunera, cascabelera, Los ojos azules, la cara morena. Luna, lunera, cascabelera, Debajo de la cama tienes la cena. Luna, lunera, cascabelera, Toma un ochavo para canela. Caracol, caracol, a la una sale el sol, sale Pinocho tocando el tambor con una cuchara y un tenedor. Que llueva, que llueva La Virgen de la Cueva Los pajaritos cantan, Las nubes se levantan. ¡Que sí, que no, que caiga un chaparrón! Que siga lloviendo, Los pájaros corriendo Florezca la pradera Al sol de la primavera. ¡Que sí, que no, que llueva a chaparrón, que no me moje yo!
Sunny Sun, Moony Moon
Sun, sunny sun, rise and shine, sunny Sun, Any day, every day, warm everyone, Moon, moony Monday, rattle only one day, One little moo-cow, six chicks on Sunday. Moon, moony Monday, two blue eyes, Sunny sunny face and sunny sunny skies. Moon, moony rattle, for a sleepyhead, Sleepyhead, your supper’s underneath your bed. Moony moony rattle, take a penny quick, Take a pretty penny for a cinnamon stick. Snaily snail in the sun, Snaily snail, clock struck one, Peter Pinecone, sun and moon, Bangs his drum with fork and spoon. Rainier and rainier Lady of Lodeña The dicky-birds are cheeping The cloudy-clouds are leaping It’s yes, it’s no, It’s raining, let it snow! Rainy rainy weather Birds of a feather All flock together Sun, showers, fields of flowers, Spring sun, rainy sky, Just you keep me dry!

Translation: Copyright © Timothy Adès

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