Driven by Despair, My Flaming Eyes I Raise

Poem by Théodore Agrippa D'Aubigné Period 16th century

Driven by despair, my flaming eyes I raise
To my cruel beauty, and kissing three times
My naked dagger, I offer it to my goddess’s hands,
And releasing my sighs in my trembling voice,
These broken words I press:

“” Beautiful, to quench the torches of your wrath,
Take this blade in your hands to open my breast,
Then my panting heart from its place withdraw,
And pressing it all warm, stifle in the other hand
Its life and its martyrdom.

Ah god! if for the end of your enemy wrath
Your hand buries it, a sepulcher so beautiful
Will be the paradise of its ravished soul,
Will make it live happy in the midst of the tomb
Of a more beautiful life! “”

But she makes dry with continuous fever
My life in languishing, and yet will not,
For fear of having pity on the one she kills,
Redden with my hot blood the ivory of her fingers,
And trouble her sight.

Théodore Agrippa d’Aubigné

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-driven-by-despair-my-flaming-eyes-i-raise-theodore-agrippa-d-aubigne/