There are wolves of every kind
I know the most inhuman one
My heart may the devil take it
And leave it at his door
It is no more than a toy in his hand
The wolves of old were faithful
Like little lapdogs are
And soldiers, lovers of fair ladies
Gallantly in remembrance of them
Were gentle just like the wolves
But today the times are worse
The wolves have turned to tigers
And the Soldiers and the Empires
The Caesars turned Vampires
Are as cruel as Venus
I have made up my mind Rouveyre
And mounted on my great horse
I shall soon set off to war
Chaste without pity and with stern eye
Like those warriors that Épinal
Sold as popular Images
That Georgin engraved in wood
Where are they those handsome soldiers
Soldiers gone by Where are the wars
Where are the wars of long ago
Guillaume Apollinaire
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-etendards-cest-lou-quon-la-nommait-guillaume-apollinaire/
