Sonnet from Etienne de la Boétie
(Esteve de La Boetiá, early 15th century)
to his soulmate (âme sœur) Michel de Montaigne,
published by Montaigne, here translated by this blogger.
Love, my liberty was struck down
and yet I didn't know how much I had thus lost,
nor did I realise in my callowness the cost
would be a bondage to which I was forever bound.
I thought that I might save myself from you somehow
through distance; only now I see
that I gain nothing by evading you
for your fine qualities are attached to me:
just as in the street a mischievous child
ties a stick to a bewildered puppy's tail
and the startled animal, by itself assailed,
turns round and round, to no avail, arse to nose,
and the pranking kids laugh as it beats itself,
unable to escape the self-inflicted blows.
*
Amour, lors que premier ma franchise* fut morte,
Combien j'avois perdu encor je ne sçavoy,
Et ne m'advisoy pas, mal sage, que j'avoy
Espousé pour jamais une prison si forte.
Je pensoy me sauver de toy en quelque sorte,
Au fort m'esloignant d'elle ; et maintenant je voy
Que je ne gaigne rien à fuir devant toy,
Car ton traict en fuyant avecques moy j'emporte.
Qui a veu au village un enfant enjoué,
Qui un baston derriere à un chien a noué,
Le chien d'estre battu par derriere estonné,
il se vire et se frappe, et les enfans joyeux
Rient qu'il va, qu'il vient, et fuyant parmy eulx
Ne peut fuir les coups que luymesme se donne..
*Franchise has many meanings in French, frankness amongst them,
as well as freedom. In other sonnets he calls love poison.
On the Web I found a single rhyming translation of
another of La Boétie's many sonnets to Montaigne.
They are actually not very good, and my translation above
is probably better than the original, even with faulty rhymes.
PARDON, Love! pardon master and lord! I vow
That of my voice, and verse, and future years,
My sobs, and sighs, my doleful cries, and fears,
Shall be no other cause, but only thou.
Alas! how vengeful fortune mocks me now!
Who late made love my mark for laugh and jeers.
Now ta'en, I yield; plain my defeat appears.
My freedom, too long kept, I disallow.
If for its sake thy conquest I delayed,
Use me no worse, thy fame thus greater made.
If thy first onset caused me not to yield,
Think that a conqueror valiant, noble, great,
More loves the captive who succumbs, though late,
And bravely fought, and stoutly kept the field.
*
PARDON AMOVR, pardon, ô Seigneur ie te voüe
Le reste de mes ans, ma voix & mes escris,
Mes sanglots, mes souspirs, mes larmes & mes cris :
Rien, rien tenir d’aucun, que de toy ie n’aduoue.
Helas comment de moy, ma fortune se ioue.
De toy n’a pas long temps, amour, ie me suis ris.
I’ay failly, ie le voy, ie me rends, ie suis pris.
I’ay trop gardé mon cœur, or ie le desadvoüe.
Si i’ay pour le garder retardé ta victoire,
Ne l’en traitte plus mal, plus grande en est ta gloire.
Et si du premier coup tu ne m’as abbatu,
Pense qu’vn bon vainqueur & nay pour estre grand,
Son nouveau prisonnier, quand vn coup il se rend,
Il prise & l’ayme mieux, s’il a bien combatu.
*
and:
Montaigne and la Boétie in the Chapter on Friendship
JSTOR readable for free via https://z-library.sk/
