Classic Poem

Le Debat du Cueur et du Corps de Villon (en forme de Ballade)

What's that I hear? It is I, thine heart,
That holds to thee by a little string.
I have no peace; from my blood I part
Seeing thee here, a wretched thing,
Like a dog whining and shivering —
And why do I so?
For thy pleasures' cost.
Why shouldst thou care?
I feel the frost.
Leave me at peace.
And why?
To dream.
When wilt thou mend?
When childhood's lost.
— I say no more.
It were best, I deem.

What thinkest thou art?
Why, a worthy man.
Thirty art thou.
'Tis the age of a mule.
Art thou a child?
Nay!
Tell to me then, is it from Lust thou art
Still a fool, and knowest thou aught
Learned in life's school?
Yea, know I well in milk the flies
Black on the white before mine eyes.
— No more?
What more can I say?
'Twould seem, thou art lost.
Yet even the lost may rise.
I say no more. — It were best, I deem.

I have the sorrow and thou the pain.
If thou wert mad or soft of mind
Then indeed thou mightst hide thy shame;
But if to wickedness thou art blind
Either thy head is a stone, I find,
Or else from good and from grace 'tis shy.
What unto this canst thou make reply?
I will find rest in Death his stream.
— God what a hope!
How thy tongue doth fly!
I say no more.
It were best, I deem.
Whence came this ill?
From my distress.
When Saturn packed my traps for me
He packed these ills.
What stupidness!
Slave art thou to stupidity.
Remember Solomon, what saith he?
A wise man power hath o'er the stars
And on their bent for peace or wars.
— I know that they made me as I seem.
What sayst thou?
Nothing, my faith hath bars.
I say no more.
It were best, I deem.

ENVOI

Wouldst thou be living?
God help me, yes!
Then must thou — —
What?
Find penitence. Read — —
And read what?
In deep science, and turn from folly
To truth's white gleam. Wilt thou do this?
I will find me sense.
Do so, or worse may come perchance.
I say no more.
It were best, I deem.