T. R. Smith, comp. Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse. 1921–22.
The Complaint of the Fair Helm-maker Grown Old
By François Villon (14311463?)(Translated by John Payne) METHOUGHT I heard the fair complainI. | |
—The fair that erst was helm-maker— | |
And wish herself a girl again. | |
After this fashion did I hear: | |
“Alack! old age, felon and drear, | 5 |
Why hast so early laid me low? | |
What hinders but I stay me here | |
And so at one stroke end my woe? | |
II. “Thou hast undone the mighty thrall | |
In which my beauty held for me | 10 |
Clerks, merchants, churchmen, one and all: | |
For never man my face might see, | |
But would have given his all for fee,— | |
Without a thought of his abuse,— | |
So I should yield him at his gree | 15 |
What churls for nothing now refuse. | |
III. “I did to many me deny | |
(Therein I showed but little guile) | |
For love of one right false and sly, | |
Whom without stint I loved erewhile. | 20 |
Whomever else I might bewile, | |
I loved him well, sorry or glad: | |
But he to me was harsh and vile | |
And loved me but for what I had. | |
IV. “Ill as he used me, and howe’er | 25 |
Unkind, I loved him none the less: | |
Even had he made me faggots bear, | |
One kiss from him or one caress, | |
And I forgot my every stress. | |
The rogue! ’twas ever thus the same | 30 |
With him. It brought me scant liesse: | |
And what is left me? Sin and shame. | |
V. “Now is he dead this thirty year, | |
And I’m grown old and worn and gray: | |
When I recall the days that were | 35 |
And think of what I am to-day | |
And when me naked I survey | |
And see my body shrunk to nought, | |
Withered and shrivelled,—wellaway! | |
For grief I am well-nigh distraught. | 40 |
VI. “Where is that clear and crystal brow? | |
Those eyebrows arched and golden hair? | |
And those bright eyes, where are they now, | |
Wherewith the wisest ravished were? | |
The little nose so straight and fair; | 45 |
The tiny tender perfect ear; | |
Where is the dimpled chin and where | |
The pouting lips so red and clear? | |
VII. “The shoulders gent and strait and small; | |
Round arms and white hands delicate; | 50 |
The little pointed breasts withal; | |
The haunches plump and high and straight, | |
Right fit for amorous debate; | |
Wide hips and dainty quelquechose, | |
Betwixt broad firm thighs situate, | 55 |
Within its little garden-close. | |
VIII. “Brows wrinkled sore and tresses gray; | |
The brows all fall’n and dim the eyne | |
That wont to charm men’s hearts away; | |
The nose, that was so straight and fine, | 60 |
Now bent and swerved from beauty’s line; | |
Chin peaked, ears furred and hanging down; | |
Faded the face and quenched its shine | |
And lips mere bags of loose skin grown. | |
IX. “Such is the end of human grace: | 65 |
The arms grown short and hands all thrawn; | |
The shoulders bowed out of their place; | |
The breasts all shrivelled up and gone; | |
The haunches like the paps withdrawn; | |
The thighs no longer like to thighs, | 70 |
Withered and mottled all like brawn, | |
And fie on that between them lies! | |
X. “And so the litany goes round, | |
Lamenting the good time gone by, | |
Among us crouched upon the ground, | 75 |
Poor silly hags, to-huddled by | |
A scanty fire of hempstalks dry, | |
Kindled in haste and soon gone out; | |
(We that once held our heads so high!) | |
So all take turn and turn about!” | 80 |