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This poem is taken from PN Review 171, Volume 33 Number 1, September - October 2006.

Lute Variation: after Louise Labé Richard Price
after Louise Labé



Ô beaux yeux bruns, ô regards détournés,
Ô chauds soupirs, ô larmes épandues,
Ô noires nuits vainement attendues,
Ô jours luisants vainement retournés!

Ô tristes plaints, ô désirs obstinés,
Ô temps perdu, ô peines dépendues,
Ô milles morts en mille rets tendues,
Ô pires maux contre moi destinés!

Ô ris, ô front, cheveux, bras, mains et doigts!
Ô luth plaintif, viole, archet et voix!
Tant de flambeaux pour ardre une femelle!

De toi me plains, que tant de feux portant,
En tant d'endroits d'iceux mon coeur tâtant,
N'en est sur toi volé quelque étincelle.

                              *

 Your eyes translate me – you look – look away.
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