I Have Nothing Left but Bones…

Poem by Pierre De Ronsard Collection Last Verses (Ronsard)Themes DeathPeriod 16th centuryArthur's analysis ↓

Je n’ai plus que les os, un squelette je semble,
Décharné, dénervé, démusclé, dépoulpé,
Que le trait de la mort sans pardon a frappé ;
Je n’ose voir mes bras que de peur je ne tremble.

Apollon et son fils, deux grands maîtres ensemble,
Ne me sauraient guérir, leur métier m’a trompé.
Adieu, plaisant soleil, mon œil est étoupé,
Mon corps s’en va descendre où tout se désassemble.

Quel ami me voyant en ce point dépouillé
Ne remporte au logis un œil triste et mouillé,
Me consolant au lit et me baisant la face,

En essuyant mes yeux par la mort endormis ?
Adieu, chers compagnons, adieu, mes chers amis,
Je m’en vais le premier vous préparer la place.

Pierre de Ronsard

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-i-have-nothing-left-but-bones-a-skeleton-i-seem-pierre-de-ronsard/

Arthur

Interpretation

Arthur's analysis

The themes of death and the passage of time are recurrent in Ronsard's work. In this sonnet, he delivers to us with touching simplicity an evocation of the imminence of his demise.

Despite his body aged and worn by time and illness, aware that no remedy will henceforth restore him, Ronsard bids farewell to the world of the living, to the sun and to his friends before he falls asleep forever.

For it is indeed a sleep that he speaks of, thus showing a serene and stoic spirit in the face of death. No trace of fear emerges from his words. Moreover, death seems to him a new beginning: leaving his companions, he announces that he is going "to prepare the place" and to wait for them in heaven. If his body fades, his soul is immortal.

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