The altar is ready; the crowd surrounds it:
Beautiful Zélie, it claims your vow.
Come, the white crown upon your brow
Is less virginal and less pure than you.
I have sometimes painted artless grace
And modesty beneath its new veils:
Ah! had my eyes known you sooner,
My paintings would have been less criticized.
My dear Louis, among the foreign race
You shall not go astray as I did:
Fortune is fickle to whoever pursues her;
One must wait for her and keep her at home.
Dear orphan, image of your mother,
In heaven for you I ask here below
For the happy days cut short for your father
And the children your uncle never had.
Make honor the idol of your life;
Make your ancestors proud of their offspring,
And allow only Zélie alone
To blush for a moment at your name.
At Ménil, 1812.
Chateaubriand
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-for-the-marriage-of-my-nephew-francois-rene-de-chateaubriand/
