Pierre de Ronsard (11 September1524 – December 1585) was a French poet.
Quotes
Mignonne, allons voir si la rose Qui ce matin avoit desclose Sa robe de pourpre au Soleil, A point perdu ceste vesprée Les plis de sa robe pourprée. Et son teint au vostre pareil.
Darling, each morning a blooded rose Lures the sunlight in, and shows Her soft, moist and secret part; See now, before you go to bed, Her skirts replaced, her darker red: A color like your own, sweetheart.
"À Cassandre (À Sa Maistresse)", st. 1, Odes (1550); as translated by Robert Mezey in The Kenyon Review, vol. 19, no. 1 (1957), reprinted in The Lovemaker: Poems (1961) with the following alterations: "deeper" for "darker" (l. 5), "A colour much like yours, dear heart." (l. 6)
Tandis que vostre âge fleuronne En sa plus verte nouveauté, Cueillez, cueillez vostre jeunesse: Comme à ceste fleur la vieillesse Fera ternir vostre beauté.
Gather the fleet flower of your youth, Take ye your pleasure at the best; Be merry ere your beauty flit, For length of days will tarnish it Like roses that were loveliest.
"À Cassandre (À Sa Maistresse)", st. 3, Odes (1550); as translated by Andrew Lang, Ballads and Lyrics of Old France (1872), p. 26
Quand vous serez bien vieille, au soir, à la chandelle, Assise auprès du feu, dévidant et filant, Direz, chantant mes vers, en vous émerveillant: "Ronsard me célébrait du temps que j'étais belle."
When you are very old, at evening, by candelight, Sitting near the fire, spooling and spinning the wool, You will say, in wonder, as you sing my verses, "Ronsard praised me in the days when I was beautiful."
"Quand vous serez bien vieille, au soir, à la chandelle", ll. 1-4, Sonnets pour Hélène (1578); as translated by Geoffrey Brereton, The Penguin Book of French Verse, vol. 2 (1958), p. 74
Cueillez dès aujourd'hui les roses de la vie.
Gather today the roses of life.
"Quand vous serez bien vieille, au soir, à la chandelle", l. 14, Sonnets pour Hélène (1578)
Je voudrais être le ruban qui serre ta belle poitrine; Je voudrais être le carcan qui orne ta gorge ivoirine.
I would be the ribbon That binds your lovely breast, I would be the necklace That adorns your ivory throat.
"Ode à sa Maîtresse", st. 5; as translated by D. B. Wyndham Lewis, Ronsard (New York, 1944), p. 101
Cp. Joshua Sylvester, The Wood-mans Bear (1620), st. 55; Alfred Tennyson, The Miller's Daughter (1833, 1842)
Ny trop haut, ny trop bas, c’est le souverain style; Tel fut celuy d’Homère, et celuy de Virgile.
Not too high, nor too low—is of all styles the best, As the epics of Homer and Virgil attest.
"A Luy Mesme", Oeuvres choisies, ed. L. Moland (Paris, n.d.), p. 340; as translated by W. F. H. King, Classical and Foreign Quotations, 3rd ed. (1904), no. 1843