In Praise of the Forest

Poem by Eustorg De Beaulieu Period 16th century

In the Forest there are many things.
In the Forest one takes one’s rest.
In the Forest it is fine to hunt,
Fine to sing, fine to pass the time,
Fine to compose in rhyme and prose.

All joyful words are spoken there.
There one laughs, one jests, one grumbles,
And if it rains one comes to take shelter
In the Forest.

Many a rabbit is there in its burrow,
And many a stream that waters the grass,
On which one comes to lie down
In the new season without vexation,
Where many a thought is disclosed
In the Forest.

Eustorg de Beaulieu

Translation generated by Poésies 123 with assistance from the deepseek-chat artificial-intelligence model.

Text published on Poésies 123: https://www.poesies123.com/en/poem-in-praise-of-the-forest-eustorg-de-beaulieu/